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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
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THE 

EEIGN  OF  HENKY  VIII 


FKOM  HIS  ACCESSION  TO  THE  DEATH  OF  WOLSEI, 


REVIEWED  AND   ILLUSTRATED   FROM 
ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS 


BY    THE   LATE 


J.  S.  BEEWEE,  M.A. 

PEOFESSOE  OF  ENGLISH   LITEKATDRE  AND   HISTORY   IN   EING'S   COLLEGE,   LONDON, 

pkeachee  at  the  eolls,  and  honoeaet  fellow  of 
queen's  college,  OXFOED. 


EDITED 

BY   JAMES   GAIRDNER 

of  the  public  eecoed  office. 


IN  TWO   VOLUMES.— VOL.  I. 


WITH     PORTRAIT. 


,  u .,    u  . 


.>        »  J  •  •     l»  JO  >,»•,«„•     o  ' 


'         ^     ;  '  o  >'/>      '  '     >   '      '         '     '  ','      '    ',  '     •      •> 

LONDON: 
JOHN    MURRAY,   ALBEMARLE    STREET. 

1884. 


LONDON : 

nilXTED    BY    WILLIAM    CHJWES    ANT)    SONS,   LIMITED, 

STAMFOUD    STREET   AN1>  CHARING   CROSS. 


,  <^  -     «      < 


c    i 


i.  4  m     *         t 
V  J  c 


<1  ^1 


IDA 


PREFACE, 


The  work  here  laid  before  the  public  in  a  collected  form  con- 
sists of  four  different  treatises,  which  were  originally  published 
as  prefaces  to  the  four  volumes  of  "  Letters  and  Papers  of  the 
Eeign  of  Henry  VIII.,"  edited  by  Professor  Brewer  for  the 
Master  of  the  Piolls.  Like  the  other  "  Calendars  "  of  the  EoUs 
Series,  that  work  is  addressed  to  a  comparatively  limited 
public,  and  the  ordinary  reader  cannot  be  expected  to  give 
much  attention  to  the  ponderous  volumes  in  which  it  is  con- 
tained. Yet  there  is  but  one  opinion  among  those  who  have 
read  these  prefaces,  not  only  of  their  high  value  to  the 
historical  student,  but  also  of  their  very  great  interest  as 
literary  compositions ;  and  these  considerations  made  it 
desirable  to  bring  them  together  in  a  form  more  convenient 
than  that  in  which  they  originally  appeared.  Application  was 
accordingly  made  to  the  Lords  of  the  Treasury,  who,  on 
careful  consideration  of  the  case,  consented  to  their  being 
republished  separately,  on  condition  that  it  should  be  here 
stated  ''  that  the  Prefaces  have  no  official  character  or 
authority,  and  that  their  republication  is  permitted  at  the 
urgent  request  of  the  friends  of  Professor  Brewer,  on  account 
of  their  literary  interest." 

It  was  said  by  some,  when  these  Calendars  first  appeared, 
that  Professor  Brewer  had  set  himself  to  write  a  history  of 
the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  He  himself  did  not  entertain  such 
an  exalted  opinion  of  his  performance  ;  and  in  one  place  he 
distinctly  says,  "  It  is  not  my  business  to  write  history,  but  to 
show  the  bearings  of  these   new  materials  upon    history. 

'  Trefaco  to  vol.  ii.  p.  clxxxix. 


»» 1 


IV  PREFACE. 

The  editor  has  therefore  refrained  from  calHng  the  work  what 
it  is  clear  the  author  himself  would  not  have  called  it.  The 
following  pages  do  not,  in  point  of  fact,  contain  a  detailed 
systematic  narrative  of  all  that  was  done  in  the  times  of  which 
they  treat ;  but  they  certainly  do  contain  a  review  of  the 
reign  of  Henry  VIII.  down  to  the  death  of  Wolsey,  as  clear 
sighted  as  it  is  comprehensive,  drawn  from  the  latest  sources 
of  information,  carefully  collected  and  arranged  by  the  author 
himself. 

And  herein  consists  the  special  value  of  this  work.  For 
it  was  not  the  production  of  any  dull  antiquary,  laboriously 
collecting  documents  and  unable  afterwards  to  see  the  true 
significance  of  his  own  discoveries.  The  writer,  if  he  was  not 
a  historian,  certainly  possessed  in  a  very  high  degree  the 
qualifications  needful  for  writing  history.  His  knowledge  of 
the  period  of  which  he  wrote  was  unsurpassed.  Yet  it 
was  not  the  exclusive  knowledge  of  a  specialist  who  knows 
nothing  beyond  his  subject.  His  familiarity  with  the  sources 
of  English  history  in  all  other  periods,  his  mature  scholar- 
ship, and  his  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  whole  range  of 
English  literature,  which  he  had  spent  his  best  years  in 
teaching  young  men  to  study,  prevented  anything  like  a 
narrow  or  one-sided  estimate,  either  of  the  men  or  of  the 
movements  which  he  made  it  his  business  to  describe. 
Qualifications  such  as  these,  it  may  be  said  without  difiidence, 
are  by  no  means  common,  even  among  the  more  pretentious 
writers  of  our  annals.  But  there  are  others  more  uncommon 
still  which  may  be  said  to  give  Mr.  Brewer — as  among 
historical  writers — a  place  entirely  by  himself.  For  it  is 
hardly  to  be  expected,  in  ordinary  cases,  that  those  more 
general  requisites — special  stud}^  and  broad  general  scholar- 
ship, extensive  reading,  and  at  the  same  time  careful  and 
accurate  judgment — so  necessary  to  the  writing  of  history, 
should  be  combined  with  the  palseographic  experience  and 
plodding  industry  which  deciphers  the  written  evidences  on 
which  all  sound  history  is  based.  Few  indeed  have  been  the 
historians  who  have  really  examined  with  their  own  eyes  and 


PREFACE.  V 

handled  with  then-  own  hands  the  must}-  documents  on  whicli 
they  built  their  inferences  ;  fewer  still  who  could  pass  critical 
judgments  on  the  handwritings,  so  as  to  identify  the  authors 
of  anonymous  letters,  note  the  significance  of  endorsements, 
and  discriminate  between  an  original  manuscript  and  a  copy 
of  later  date.  But  in  matters  such  as  these  Mr.  Brewer  was 
more  expert  than  those  with  whom  it  might  be  supposed  to  be 
a  business.  He  brought  together  manuscripts  which  before  lay 
in  hopeless  confusion  ;  ascertained  their  dates,  their  author- 
ship, and  then-  significance  by  the  light  of  internal  evidence ; 
perused  and  reperused  and  compared  with  others  hosts  of 
difficult  and  obscure  documents,  until  they  had  yielded  up 
their  secrets ;  and  finally  gathered  up  the  results  of  his 
researches  in  clear,  systematic  order,  illuminating  the  whole 
subject  for  the  general  reader  as  well  as  for  the  student  by  the 
clearest  and  most  lucid  exposition. 

The  work  which  he  was  called  upon  to  do  in  the  Public 
Eecord  Office  was  to  catalogue  and  chronologize  a  number  of 
miscellaneous  documents  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIH.,  which 
it  was  believed  would  throw  much  light  upon  the  history  of 
the  Eeformation.  A  primary  examination  of  these  materials 
convinced  him  that  their  importance  had  not  been  over- 
magnified,  but  that  no  satisfactory  Calendar  of  them  could  be 
drawn  up  unless  the  whole  collection  from  which  they 
originally  came  were  examined  and  catalogued  along  with 
them.  For  at  that  time  the  Public  Piecords  were  dispersed  in 
five  different  repositories,  and  there  was  the  State  Paper 
Office  besides,  now  amalgamated  with  the  Eecord  Department. 
Portions  of  these  miscellaneous  papers  had  been  transferred 
from  one  office  to  another,  and  those  most  easily  dated  and 
classified  had  been  taken  away  to  complete  the  early  series  of 
State  Papers.  Moreover,  it  was  impossible  to  stop  at  these 
repositories,  for  the  very  same  process  of  collecting  and 
separating  out  of  the  public  archives  a  quantity  of  their  more 
interesting  contents  had  been  begun  two  centuries  before  by 
Sir  Eobert  Cotton,  and  the  result  is  that  the  same  correspond- 
ence is  still  found  divided,  part  being  hi  tlie  Public  Eecord 
1.  b 


Vi  PREFACE. 

Office,  and  part  in  the  British  Museum.  Even  parts  of  the 
same  letter,  as  Mr,  Brewer  remarks  in  some  introductory 
observations,  were  not  unusually  found  in  different  libraries  ; 
addresses  were  detached  from  the  letters  to  which  they 
belonged,  and  enclosures  inserted  in  wrong  envelopes. 

"  To  add  to  the  confusion,"  Mr.  Brewer  continues,  "special 
modes  of  arrangement  were  adopted  in  different  offices  ;  and 
not  unfrequently  the  system  pursued  under  one  officer  was 
modified  or  reversed  by  his  successor.  The  original  bundles 
appear  to  have  been  broken  up,  under  the  keepership  of 
Arthur  Agarde,  when  the  Treasury  of  the  Exchequer  was 
rifled  of  its  most  precious  contents,  to  augment  the  collections 
of  Sir  Eobert  Cotton.  Their  order  was  further  disturbed  by 
Mr.  John  Cayley,  who  arranged  many  of  the  letters  in  an 
alphabetical  order  of  names.  Some  preferred  a  topographical, 
others  a  diplomatic,  arrangement.  But  as  none  of  these 
projects  were  completed,  and  never  could  be  so  long  as 
portions  of  the  same  series  remained  in  different  depositories, 
these  successive  attempts  at  arrangement  ended,  as  might  be 
expected,  in  utter  confusion." 

The  way  in  which  Mr.  Brewer  dealt  with  the  problem  may 
as  well  be  recorded  in  his  own  words  also  :  — 

"  A  return  to  the  primitive  arrangement  of  the  papers, 
however  desirable,  was  altogether  impossible,  for  no  memo- 
randa had  been  kept  of  these  changes.  To  have  catalogued 
the  papers  as  they  stood  was  scarcely  more  possible.  No- 
thing remained  except  to  bring  the  different  series  together, 
and  patiently  proceed  dc  novo  to  arrange  the  whole  in  uni- 
form chronological  order.  The  task  was  extremely  difficult 
and  fatiguing.  The  labour  was  increased  by  the  dispersion 
of  the  papers,  the  variety  of  experiments  to  which  they  had 
l)een  subjected  at  different  intervals,  and  the  total  obliteration 
of  all  traces  of  their  original  sequence.  The  letters  are 
seldom  dated  ;  their  dates  had  to  be  determined  by  internal 
evidence.  Many  turn  exclusivel}^  upon  personal  topics,  or 
refer  to  events  little  known.  Long  and  tedious  researches 
had   to   be    made   for   obscure   names,   and   events   not   less 


TREFACE.  vii 

obscure ;  often  without  any  successful  result,  often  where  the 
success  bore  no  proportion  to  the  time  and  labour  spent  upon 
it.  Tedious  and  unsatisfactory  as  the  task  proved  to  be,  it 
was  necessary,  in  some  instances,  to  replace  the  books  and 
bundles,  as  nearly  as  could  be  guessed,  in  their  ancient  order, 
and  insert  once  more  dated  among  the  undated  documents, 

'  incedens  per  ignes 
Suppositos  cineri  doloso.' 

"  But  even  where  the  events  were  more  noticeable,  as  in  the 
political  relations  of  England  with  the  Continent  during  the 
first  half  of  the  16th  century,  letters  of  credence  or  compli- 
ment, drafts  of  instructions,  many  without  date  or  signature, 
not  in  the  handwriting  of  the  author,  but  of  his  scribe,  were 
far  from  being  easily  arranged.  Events  frequently  repeat 
themselves  with  extraordinary  likeness  in  the  various  political 
combinations  of  those  times.  It  is  not  easy,  for  instance,  to 
assign  to  their  proper  years  undated  memoranda  relating  to 
the  intricate  wars  and  policy  of  Italy.  The  diplomatic  cor- 
respondence between  England  and  France  in  1518  or  1519, 
and  again  in  1525  and  1526,  or  that  of  Flanders  in  1516 
and  1517,  as  compared  with  1522  and  1523,  is  deceptive 
enough.  To  determine  the  due  sequence  of  papers  referring 
to  the  designs  of  France  upon  Tournay  and  the  English  pale, 
to  follow  without  confusion  the  crooked  lines  of  Scotch 
politics  under  the  Duke  of  Albany,  to  keep  every  minute  and 
instruction,  every  rough  draft  and  memorandum  for  each 
ambassador,  in  its  proper  month  and  year,  where  no  help  is 
lent  by  signature,  date  or  handwriting,  is  more  laborious  than 
they  know  who  have  never  tried  it.  Nothing  seems  more 
easy  or  obvious  after  the  true  order  has  been  discovered; 
nothing  is  more  perplexing  before. 

"  The  first  step  was  to  number  all  the  documents  in  the 
several  bundles,  boxes,  and  portfolios  as  they  were  produced 
to  me ;  then  to  deal  into  boxes  marked  with  the  regnal  and 
dominical  year  all  papers  of  which  the  dates  were  certain, 
setting  aside  for  the  present  the  less  certain  and  obvious. 
The  residue  thus  set  aside  had  to  be  examined  again  and 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

again,  subjected  to  various  processes,  and  reduced  to  the 
smallest  compass  compatible  with  accuracy  of  arrangement. 

"After  repeated  examination  the  undigested  mass,  con- 
sisting of  fragments,  anonymous  letters,  or  papers  which 
defied  all  chronological  arrangement,  had  to  be  indexed  for 
convenience  of  reference,  in  the  expectation  that  during  the 
f;)rmation  of  the  Calendar  fresh  evidence  might  turn  up, 
doubts  be  cleared,  or  the  missing  portions  and  fragments  or 
defective  letters  be  discovered. 

"  To  the  difficulty  arising  from  a  general  absence  of  dates 
in  papers  of  this  early  period  must  be  added  the  uncertainty 
in  the  different  modes  of  calculation  adopted  by  different 
nations.  Some  states  followed  the  Roman,  some  the  old 
style.  Some  commenced  the  year  on  Christmas  Day,  some 
at  the  variable  feast  of  Easter.  In  some  instances  the  same 
writer  followed  no  rule,  but  wavered  between  both  styles,  like 
the  Emperor  Maximilian  ;  some  adopted  the  style  of  the  place 
where  they  chanced  to  be  staying,  or  of  the  correspondent  to 
whom  their  letters  were  addressed.  This  uncertainty  in  the 
chronology  of  the  times  involved  the  necessity  of  numerous 
researches  among  the  Privy  Seals,  Patent  Polls,  and  other 
muniments  at  the  Eecord  Office.  It  was  indispensable,  to 
arrive  at  some  certain  data  for  determining  the  shifting  dates 
of  uncertain  papers.  At  last,  by  one  method  or  another,  and 
finally  by  comparing  the  entire  series  of  despatches  of  this  or 
that  ambassador,  wherever  such  a  comparison  could  be  made, 
the  date  of  each  separate  document  was  determined  with 
tolerable  exactness.  Step  by  step  the  whole  series  emerged 
from  confusion." 

This  result,  however,  was  only  achieved  by  a  most  com- 
prehensive mode  of  dealing  with  the  contents  not  only  of 
the  Eecord  Office,  but  also  of  the  British  Museum,  and  all 
other  public  libraries  so  far  as  they  related  to  the  reign  of 
Henry  VIII.  The  necessity  for  a  thorough  examination  of 
the  Cottonian  Manuscripts  was  obvious  from  the  fact  already 
stated,  that  the  state  papers  contained  in  that  collection 
formed  at  one  time  a  part  of  the  Public  Eecords ;  and  the 


PREFACE.  ix 

difficulties  of  chronologizing  the  papers  imperatively  required 
that  no  other  manuscrij)ts  should  be  neglected  which  might 
possibly  throw  a  gleam  of  light  on  the  political  history  of 
the  period.  Hence  the  Harleian,  Lansdowne,  and  other 
collections  in  the  British  Museum,  the  manuscripts  in  the 
Archiepiscopal  Library  at  Lambeth,  the  treasures  in  the 
various  college  libraries  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  so  far  as 
they  contained  original  evidences  bearing  on  the  reign  of 
Henry  YIIL,  were  all  carefully  noted  and  epitomized  in  the 
same  way  as  the  documents  in  the  Public  Record  Office. 
Nor  was  even  this  enough.  It  was  important  to  include 
printed  letters  also,  of  which  the  originals  do  not  now  exist ; 
and  no  letter  written  by  or  to  an  Englishman  at  this 
period,  or  even  by  a  foreigner  if  it  contained  news  about 
English  affairs,  escaped  Mr.  Brewer's  researches.  "  I  ought, 
perhaps,"  he  modestly  saj'S,  "to  apologize  for  including 
the  letters  of  Erasmus  and  Peter  Martja-,  But  only  those 
letters  of  Erasmus  are  here  noticed  which  were  written  by 
him  during  his  residence  in  England,  or  received  by  him 
from  Englishmen  during  his  residence  abroad,  or  are  of  direct 
importance  to  English  history.  His  corresj)ondents  were  men 
of  high  standing  in  the  region  of  politics.  He  numbered 
among  his  intimate  friends  Warham,  Tunstal,  More,  Pace, 
Sampson,  and  Ammonius,  secretary  for  the  Latin  and  Italian 
tongues  to  Henry  YIII.  No  one  was  better  acquainted  than 
Ammonius  with  the  proceedings  between  this  country  and 
Piome.  These  letters,  therefore,  have  a  claim  upon  the 
historical  student  beyond  the  personal  importance  of  the 
names  under  which  they  were  published." 

But  how  much  labour  even  the  letters  of  Erasmus  involved 
would  hardly  be  known  from  the  few  brief  sentences  in  which 
Mr.  Brewer  refers  to  this  part  of  his  very  complicated  task. 
"Unhappily,"  he  says,  "the  dates  in  all  the  printed  copies 
are  strangely  confused  and  inaccurate.  I  have,  therefore,  been 
compelled  to  arrange  them  by  their  internal  evidence,  retain- 
ing the  printed  dates  at  the  foot  of  the  abstracts.  The  order 
adopted  by  Le  Clerc  in  his  splendid  collection  of  the  works  of 


X  PEEFACE. 

Erasmus,  published  at  the  Hague,  is  certainly  faulty.  He 
was  followed  implicitly  by  Jortin."  To  find  that,  in  a 
collection  of  letters  all  distinctly  dated  as  if  by  the  writers 
themselves,  many  thus  assigned  to  the  year  1511  were 
certainly  written  in  the  year  1513,  and  that,  in  fact,  not  a 
single  date  is  to  be  taken  on  trust  without  inquiry,  is  certainly 
an  unpleasant  experience  to  one  in  search  of  historical 
accuracy.  Mr.  Brewer  had,  on  a  smaller  scale,  the  same 
problem  with  the  letters  of  Erasmus  that  he  had  in  reducing 
to  order  the  State  papers  of  the  realm.    ■ 

But  we  have  not  even  yet  exhausted  the  comprehensiveness 
of  Mr.  Brewer's  plan. 

"I  have  included,"  he  tells  us,  "  a  summary  of  the  Privy 
Seals  and  Signed  Bills,  both  for  their  chronological  and  their 
historical  importance.  These  documents  had  to  be  fi-equently 
searched  during  the  formation  of  the  Calendar.  They  have  the 
advantage  of  being  dated  with  rigid  accuracy.^  To  the  time  of 
the  compilation  of  this  Catalogue  they  were  kept  on  files,  with- 
out any  order.  They  are  now  chronologically  arranged,  and 
their  number  has  been  augmented  by  subsequent  researches. 

"As  the  contents  of  the  Privy  Seals  and  Signed  Bills  are 
generally  entered  on  the  Patent  Polls,  and  form  their  most 
valuable  and  interesting  materials,  it  seemed  only  a  small 
extension  of  labour  to  include  the  remaining  entries,  and  thus 
make  the  Index  to  the  Patent  Rolls  complete.  That  labour 
was  greatly  lightened  by  a  manuscript  Calendar  of  these  Polls, 
prepared  and  in  great  part  comj)leted  by  Mr.  Poberts,  the 
present  Secretary  of  the  Record  Office  ;  and  though  it  did  not 
suit  the  purposes  of  this  work  to  adopt  the  fuller  descriptions 
of  Mr.  Roberts,  or  follow,  as  he  does,  the  miscellaneous  order 
of  the  Rolls,  I  am  glad  to  acknowledge  my  obligations  to  the 
conscientious  labours  of  that  gentleman. 

"  The  collation  of  the  Signed  Bills  and  Fyiyj  Seals  was 
often  of  service  in  detecting  errors  in  the  entries  on  the 
Patent  Rolls.  Such  mistakes  have  been  noticed  wherever 
they  seemed  important. 

'  There  are  a  few  unimportant  exceptions. 


PREFACE.  xi 

"  To  the  Patent  Eolls  I  have  added  an  abstract  of  the 
Parliament  Eolls,  and  propose  to  add  one  of  the  Privy 
Council  books  as  soon  as  they  fall  within  the  scope  of  my 
work.  The  papers  and  memoranda  lately  brought  to  light 
will  supply  great  deficiencies  in  those  books,  and  prove  not 
the  least  curious  part  of  the  whole  collection. 

"  The  Scotch  Eolls  contain  the  commissions  of  ambassadors 
and  agents  accredited  by  England  to  Scotland,  and  curious 
notices  of  the  diplomatic  relations  between  the  two  countries. 
The  French  Eolls  detail  the  same  information  for  France, 
with  a  larger  amount  of  miscellaneous  matter.  Both  were 
frequently  consulted  by  Eymer  for  his  edition  of  the  Foedera, 
and  a  full  summary  of  their  contents  will  be  found  in  this 
Catalogue." 

It  was  only  after  all  this  vast  labour  had  been  gone 
through,  after  State  papers  and  letters  had  been  thoroughly 
sifted  and  described,  after  Patents,  Privy  Seals,  and  Signed 
Bills  had  been  all  likewise  fully  examined  and  summarized, 
after  the  whole  of  those  documents  had  been  carefully 
chronologized  and  the  result  already  printed,  that  Mr.  Brewer 
sat  down  to  write  these  prefaces,  which  are  here  presented  in 
another  form.  No  historian  certainly  ever  addressed  himself 
to  his  work  with  so  much  preparation — indeed,  no  one  could 
have  done  so,  however  able  and  willing,  and  however  self- 
denying,  until  the  Government  of  this  country  had  seen  the 
wisdom  of  authorizing  the  formation  of  a  Calendar  of  its 
Public  Eecords  and  State  Papers ;  nor  could  the  result  have 
been  easily  achieved  even  then  if  old  restrictions  and  for- 
malities had  not  been  to  a  great  extent  removed,  and  the  work 
placed  in  the  hands  of  one  who  knew  so  thoroughly  what  was 
wanted  in  the  interests  of  historical  study. 


CONTENTS   OF   VOL.  T. 


CHAPTER  I. 


HKXEY    VIII.    AXD    EUROPE. 


Contrast  between  the  reiga  of  Henry  VIII.  and  that  of  Henry  YII 
Diminished  influence  of  England  on  the  Continent 

(Personal  qualities  of  Henry  YIII.     ... 
His  poiJularity 
His  appearance    ... 

Contemporary  sovereigns — Lewis  XII.  and  Maximilian 
Ferdinand  of  Arragon 
Effects  of  the  League  of  Cambray 
Lewis  XII.  in  Italy 
Cordiality  of  England  and  France 
The  Council  of  Pisa 
Loss  of  Italy  by  the  French 

Expedition  to  Spain  under  the  Marquis  of  Dorset 
Disaffection  among  the  troops  ... 
They  return  home  ...  ...  ...       *      ... 

Wolsey  has  the  management  of  the  war 
Gallant  death  of  Sir  Edward  Howard 
Henry  inyades  France  in  person 
And  James  IV.  invades  England     ... 
The  Duke  of  Orleans  ... 
Ferdinand's  treachery 
Lewis  XII.  a  widower 
Prince  Charles  and  Henry's  sister  Mary 
Marriage  of  Mary  to  Lewis  XII. 


1 
3 

4 
7 
8 
10 
11 
12 
13 
15 
1(> 
18 
18 
20 
21 
22 
25 
26 
27 
31 
32 
36 
37 
39 


CHAPTER  II. 


INTERNAL    CONDITION    Ol'    ENGLAND. 


Pleasure  and  pageantry 
/The  King's  early  married  life    . . . 
^eath  of  his  infant  son 

Results  of  the  Wars  of  the  Roses 


II. 
45 
•Mi 
48 


XIV 


CONTENTS. 


Decline  of  Monasticism 

The  Privy  Council 

Public  business  falls  chiefly  on  Wolsey 

His  personal  appearance,  history,  and  character 

Ambassadors 

Changes  in  social  life  ... 

Crown  lands 

Wealth  and  power  of  the  sovereign 


PAGE 

50 
52 
57 
60 
64 
68 
69 
70 


/^ 


CHAPTER  III. 


SUFFOLK    AND    MARY.— DESIGNS    OF    FRANCIS    I. 


Death  of  Lewis  XII. 

Suffolk  sent  to  Prance 

His  conversations  with  Francis  I. 

How  Francis  learned  his  secret 

His  negociations  ... 
/He  and  Mary  privately  married 
^  The  King's  displeasure  at  it 
VThe  open  marriage 

Francis  starts  for  Italy 

Crosses  the  Alps 

The  Cardinal  of  Sion 

The  battle  of  Marignano 


..c   74 

76 

...   77 

80 

...   85 

86 

...   90 

94 

...   96 

100 

...  101 

102 

CHAPTER  IV. 


EFFECTS    OF    THE    BATTLE    OF    MARIGNANO. 

How  the  news  was  received  in  different  quarters 

Henry  and  his  great  galley 
'  Richard  Pace 

The  Swiss  desii'e  to  serve  England 
—Pace's  mission 

•Maximilian  ti-ies  to  get  hold  of  the  money 

Sir  Robert  Wingfield 

Persuaded  by  the  Emperor  to  disobey  instructions  ' 

Receives  a  rebuff  from  Wolsey,  and  stands  upon  his  dignity 

The  expedition  begins  to  move 

The  Emperor  hangs  back  ... 

And  deserts  his  allies 

Sion  and  Pace  imprisoned 

Maximilian  extorts  money  from  Pace 

Offers  the  King  the  Duchy  of  Milan  and  the  Imperial  Crown 

A  further  remittance  for  the  Swiss  sent  to  Pace  ... 

Who  is  threatened  and  cajoled  for  money  by  Maximilian 

Wingfield  complains  of  Pace  to  the  King 

Receives  an  unpleasant  message  for  the  Emperor 

And  brings  down  a  severe  censure  on  himself 


105 
106 
112 
113 
114 
116 
117 
119 
121 
122 
124 
127 
132 
132 
135 
136 
137 
140 
141 
145 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  TREATY  OF  XOYOX. 

PAGE 

Prince  Charles  courts  an  alliance  with  Francis  I.  ...             ...              ...     liS 

Becomes  King  of  Spain              ...             ...              ...  ...              ...             151 

The  Treaty  of  Noyon           ...              ...             ...  ...              ...             ...     153 

Conduct  of  the  Emperor            ...               ..              ...  ...              ...             154 

He  agrees  to  come  to  the  Lovr  Countries  and  remove  Charles's  councillors      155 

Obtains  money  from  England  for  the  journey       ...  ...              ...              157 

Yet  accepts  the  treaty  of  Noyon      ...              ...  ...             ...              ...     159 

Tunstal  demands  an  explanation               ...              ...  ...              ...              IGO 

Wolsey  pursues  the  same  com-se  as  before     ...  ...             ...              ...     163 

Tunstal's  advice           ...              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...             166 

Knight's  view  of  matters   ...              ...              ...  ...              ...              ...     167 

The  King  is  fully  informed  already           ...              ...  ...              ...              171 

The  deceivers  are  outwitted              ...              ...  ...              ...             ...     173 

Need  of  Charles's  presence  in  Spain        ...              ...  ...              ...             174 

For  which  he  wants  money  of  England        ...  ...             ...              ...     179 

His  voyage  to  Spain  ...              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...             181 


CHAPTEE,   VI. 


ENGLAND    AND    FRANCE. 


Wolsey's  policy  towards  France 

Secret  negociations 

Ofifer  of  Francis  for  the  surrender  of  Tournay 
/a  French  embassy  comes  over  ... 
\  Its  object  carefully  disguised 
X  A  matrimonial  treaty 
'1  A  more  splendid  embassy  comes 
V  Banquet  to  the  ambassadors 

T?he  Dauphin  man-ied  by  proxy  to  the  Princess  Mary 

English  embassy  to  France  in  return      ... 


184 
186 
188 
190 
190 
194 
197 
199 
200 
202 


CHAPTER  VII. 


SCOTCH    AFFAIRS. 


Competitors  for  the  see  df  St.  Andrews 
jSecond  marriage  of  Queen  Margaret 
iHer  adventures    ... 
.Arrival  of  Albany  in  Scotland  ... 

Intrigues  of  Lord  Dacre 

Margaret  besieged  in  Stirling  Castle 
■  She  escapes  to  England     ... 

Her  retura  ... 
',    Execution  of  Hume  and  his  brother 
\  Murder  of  La  Bastie    .. 


207 
208 
209 
211 
212 
213 
215 
221 
222 
223 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   VJII. 

DOMESTIC    HISTORY. 


TACJK 


j  The  King's  expenditure      ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     226 

/  Pageants        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  228 

'   Private  life  of  the  King      ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...      230 

Birth  of  the  Princess  Marj        ...  ...  ...  ...  ..  231 

Henry's  patronage  of  art  and  letters  ...  ...  ...  ...     2.33 

Luther  and  indulgences  ...  ...  ...  ...  ..  234 

The  sweating  sickness        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     237 

Wolsey  Lord  Chancellor  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  241 

Henry's  solicitude  for  him  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     212 

fieueral  dislike  of  foreigners     ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  244 

Evil  May  day        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     245 

Dr.  Standish  and  the  Eoyal  supremacy  ...  ...  ...  ...  250  j 


CHAPTER  IX. 

■\V0LSEY    CARDINAL    AND  LEG.VTE. 

.,__--'A\'"olsey  at  the  height  of  power         ...              ...  ...              ...              ...     256 

The  plot  against  Leo  X.             ...              ...  ...              ...              ...             263 

Polydore  Vergil  in  disgrace               ...              ...  . .              ...              ...     264 

'          ~Wolsey  made  a  Cardinal             ...              ...  ...              ...              ...             266 

The  proposed  crusade  against  the  Turks        ...  ...              ...              ...     274 

Campeggio's  mission  to  England               ...  ...                ..              ...              279 

His  receiDtiou  as  joint  legate  with  Wolsey      ...  ...              ...             ...     281 


CHAPTER   X. 

TWO    BOOKS    or    THE    PEKIOH. 


Erasmus's  Greek  Testament  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     285 

More's  Utopia  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  288, 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE    IMPERIAL    ELECTIO.V. 

Death  of  the  Emperor  Maximilian  ...              ...  .              ...              ...     298 

The  struggle  for  empire             ...             ...              ...  ..              ...             303 

Henry  VIII.  a  candidate    ...               ...              ...  .                                ...     310 

Wolsey  finesses  with  the  Pope  .. .              ...              .  .  ...              ...             312 

Pace  sent  to  Germany        ...              ...              ...  ..              ...              ...     314 

Finds  he  is  too  late     ...              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...             317 

Francis  hides  his  resentment  at  Henry's  intrigues  ...              ...              ...     319 

England  also  ostensibly  cordial  towards  France   ...  ...              ...             321 


'/ 


CONTENTS.  xvii 

PAGE 

Preparations  for  an  interview  between  Henry  YIII.  and  Francis  ...     323 

Charles  V.  less  inclined  to  France           ...              ...               ..  ...             325 

Offer  of  Mary's  hand  to  the  Emperor                . .              ...              ...  ...     326 

Arransrements  for  an  interview  between  Henry  and  Charles  Y.  ...              328 

The  Spaniards  dilatory       ...               ..              ...              ...              ...  ...     332 

The  French  active       ...              ...              ...              ...             ...  ...             334 

Arrangements  for  the  Frencli  interview  pressed  forward            ...  ...     338 

The  Emperor's  visit  to  England                ...                ..              ...  ...              345 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD. 

Henry  sails  for  Calais         ...              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...     347 

Palace  erected  at  Guisnes         ...              ...              ...  ...              ...             348 

Wolsey  visits  Francis  at  Arde           ...              ...              ...  ...              ...     351 

Meeting  of  the  two  Kings          ...              ...              ...  ...              ...             353 

Meeting  of  Henry  VIII.  and  the  Emperor  at  Gravelines  ...              ...     356 

Mary's  hand  offered  to  Charles  V.            ...               ...  ...              ...              359 

England  remonstrates  against  the  fortification  of  Ai'de  . .              ...     361 

Francis  prepares  to  invade  Italy               ...              ...  . .               . .             362 

The  Emperor's  perplexities                ...              ...              ...  ...              ...     364 

Diet  of  Worms  dissolved             ...               ...              ...  ...              ...              366 

The  Emperor  secretly  negociates  for  a  marriage  with  Portugal  . . .     367 

But  Wolsey  is  not  to  be  trifled  with         ...              ...  ...              ...              369 

And  Tunstal  is  recalled        ..              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...     373 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE    DUKE    OF    BUCKI?fGHAM. 

Buckingham  present  at  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold  ...  ...     375 

377 
...  379 

382 
...  384 

388 
...  392 

395 
...  398 

401 


His  instructions  to  his  chaplain  Gilbert  ... 

Kny vet  not  the  informer   ... 

Examination  of  the  Duke's  surveyor 

Apprehension  of  Buckingham 

Depositions  against  him 
(His  trial 
)His  e.xccution 
(what  men  said  of  it,  abroad  and  at  home 

Division  of  his  property 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    CALAIS    CONFEKENCE. 

Policy  of  Wolsey  to  prevent  a  union  of  Francis  and  the  Emperor  ...     4-05 

Francis  prepares  for  war           ...              ...              ...              •••  •••             ^^ 

Fitzwilliam  sent  to  Franco                ...               ■•              ...                •  ■••     '1<)9 

The  Emperor  and  Francis  both  accept  the  mediation  of  England  ...              412 


XVlll 


CONTENTS. 


Wolsey  to  be  sent  to  Calais,  ostensibly  to  adjust  their  differences 

Interview  of  Henry  with  the  Imperial  ambassadors 

Wolsey  sets  out  ... 

Gives  audience  to  the  Imperial  and  French  ambassadors   . . . 

Wolsey  deceives  Francis    ... 

Fitzwilliam's  indignant  answer  to  Marguerite 

Return  of  Wolsey 

He  receives  the  Abbej^  of  St.  Alban's 


PACE 

414 
416 
418 
419 
421 
422 
425 
427 


CHAPTER  XV. 

DEATH    OF    LEO    X. WAR    WITH    FRA.VCE. 

Death  of  Leo  X.  ...  ...  ...  ... 

His  triumph  over  the  French    ... 

Wolsey  a  candidate  for  the  papacy  ... 

His  extraordinary  proposal  to  the  Bishop  of  Elua 

The  Conclave 

Election  of  Adrian  VI. 

His  character 

War  declared  against  France     ... 

The  Emperor's  second  visit  to  England 

Difficulties  of  the  commissariat 

Invasion  of  Fi-ance 

The  treason  of  Bourbon 

The  Emperor  thinks  of  marrying  Isabella  of  Portugal 

Beaiu-ain  sent  a  second  time  to  England 

His  intrigue  with  Bourbon  apart 


429 
430 
433 
438 
440 
447 
448 
451 
451 
454 
456 
458 
463 
465 
466 


\ 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE    PARLTAMEN'T   OF    1523. 

Parliament  summoned        ...             ...              ...              ...  ...                     4^9 

Sir  Thomas  More  chosen  Sjaeaker             . .              ...  ...             ...             470 

Tradition  of  his  conduct  as  Speaker                ...             ...  ...                     47]^ 

Wolsey  proposes  a  subsidy         ...             ...              ...  ...              .  .             473 

The  House  declines  to  discuss  matters  in  his  presence  ...             ...     475 

Wolsey  rejects  the  grant  of  the  Commons              ...  ...             ...             476 

Contemporary  account  of  the  debates             ...              ...  ...              ...     473 

Mnrmurs  in  the  country             ...              ...              ...  ...              ...              479 

The  Act  for  the  subsidy      ...              ...              ...              ...  ...                      431 

Early  history  of  Thomas  Cromwell            ..               ...  ...              ...              482 

His  speech  in  Parliament   ...              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...     434 

Prorogation  of  Parliament        ...              ...               ...  ...              ...              439 

Payment  of  members           ...              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...     4,g\ 

The  convocations  of  York  and  Canterbury  summoned  to  meet  at  West- 
minster             ...              ...              ...             ...  ...             ...             492 

The  loan               ...              ...              ...              ...              ...  ...                     49.], 

Oppressive  taxation    ...              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...             495 


A 


CONTENTS. 


SIX 


V 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


INVASION    OF    FRANCE. 

Henry's  expectation  of  conquering  France     . . . 

Revolt  of  Bourbon 

The  Venetians  abandon  France 

The  spirit  of  Francis  rises  to  the  emergency 

Suffolk  invades  France 

Proposed  siege  of  Boalogne 

Alarm  at  Paris     ... 


PAGE 

498 
499 
500 
503 
504 
505 
509 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

SCOTLAND. 

How  Scotland  was  affected  by  the  treaty  between  England  and  France         511 

^><Margaret  seeks  a  divorce  from  Angus     ...              ...  ...              ...             513 

And  promotes  the  return  of  Albany                 ...  ...              ...              ...     514 

Who  returns  accordingly            ...               ...              ...  ...              ...              519 

Dacre's  bitter  reply  to  Margaret      ...              ...  ...              ...              ...     521 

Ga win  Douglas  sent  to  England                ...              ...  ...              ...              523 

Angus  makes  peace  with  Albany     ...              ...  ...              ...              ...     525 

Clarencieux  sent  to  Scotland             ...             ...  ...              ..               ...     52(> 

Henry  writes   to  the  Estates  of  Scotland,  demanding  the  dismissal  of 

Albany               ...              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...             527 

Henry's  demands  rejected         ...              ...              ...  ...             ...             529 

Neither  England  nor  Scotland  desires  war     ...  ...              ...              ...     529 

The  Scots  determine,  too  late,  to  invade  England  ...              ...             531 

While  secret  negociations  proceed    ...               ...  ...              ...              ...     531 

Albany  advances  to  the  Borders               ...              ...  ...              ...             532 

Agrees  to  a  truce                 ...              ...              ...  ...              ...              ...     533 

Dacre's  letter  to  Wolsey  on  the  subject                 ...  ...              ...             SSI- 
Albany  returns  to  France  .. .              ...              ..-.  ...              ...              ...     537 

Effects  of  his  withdrawal           ...               ...              ...  ...              ...              538 

Surrey  takes  the  command  against  Scotland  ...              ...              ...     510 

The  war  renewed         ...              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...             542 

*/^Iargaret's  ambition  as  peacemaker                ...  ...              ...              ...     514 

Albany's  return  to  Scotland      ...              ...              ...  ..              ...             51" 

Margaret  wavers                 ...              ...              ...  ...              ...              ...     550 

Albany  makes  great  preparations  against  England  W     ...              ...             551 

Alarm  of  Surrey  ...              ...              ...               ...  ...              ...              ...     553 

Wolscy's  sagacious  advice          ...             ...              ...  ...              ...             554 

Albany's  attack  on  Wark  Castle       ...              ...  ...              ...              ...     557 

His  retreat     ...              ...              ...              ...              ...  ...              ...              558 

Effect  of  the  Border  wars   ..              ...              ...  ...              ...              ...     5f>1 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DEATH    or. ADRIAN    VI. SIEGE    OF    UIIODES. 


Deatli  of  Adrian  VI. 

His  character  and  administration 


5G5  / 
5(;(>/ 


<' 


XX  CONTEMTS. 

PAGE 

His  distress  at  the  capture  of  Rhodes  ...  ...  ...  ...     570^ 

Wolsey  and  the  papacy  ...  .  .  . .  ...  ...  573 

The  Conclave        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     576 

Election  of  Clement  VII.  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  579^ 

The  siege  and  capture  of  Rhodes     ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     580 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LUTHER    AND    HENRY    VIII. 

/The  Augustinian  Friars  of  Saxony 
Luther's  Scholastic  training 

The  age  preceding  the  Reformation  not  particularly  immoral     . . 
Henry's  ambition  to  write  against  heresy 

Writes  in  reply  to  Luther's  treatise,  De  Cnpticitafe  Bahylonica 
His  book  presented  to  the  Pope 
Title  of  J'tcZei  Pe/ensor  given  to  Henry 
Luther's  reply  to  the  King 
More' 8  answer  to  Luther     .. 

Appendix      ...  ...  ...  ...  ..  ...  ...  (310 


507^ 

599 

600 

601 

602 

603 

605 

606 

60S 

THE  PtEIGN  OF  HENEY  VIII. 


CHAPTEE   I. 

HENRY   VIII.    AND    EUROPE. 

The  Middle  Ages  came  to  a  close  in  England  with  the  death  of 
Henry  VII.  and  the  accession  of  his  son.  The  contrast 
between  the  two  reigns,  even  taken  by  themselves,  is  typical 
of  an  expiring  feudalism  and  the  dawn  of  a  new  era.  It  is 
reflected  not  merely  in  the  events  and  literatm^e  of  the  period, 
but  still  more  vividly  in  the  correspondence  of  Henry  VIII.'s 
time  as  compared  with  that  of  his  father.  Where  the 
documents  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.  are  reckoned  by  tens, 
those  of  Henry  VIII.  may  be  reckoned  by  hundreds.  Whilst, 
under  the  former,  reports  of  ministers  and  ambassadors  are 
confined  to  political  news,  told  in  general  with  a  dryness  and 
succintness  characteristic  of  the  monarch  to  whom  they  were 
addressed,  the  letters  addressed  to  Henry  VIII.  are  full  of 
miscellaneous  information  and  lively  personal  details.  The 
writers  seem  to  be  conscious  that  the  young  King  takes  more 
than  ordinary  interest  in  the  appearance,  manners,  doings, 
and  designs  of  his  contemporaries.  His  personality  makes 
itself  felt  immediately  on  his  accession ;  it  penetrates  in 
different  degrees  all  classes  in  the  nation,  from  the  highest  to 
the  lowest.  Though  the  prime  ministers  and  agents  of  his 
father  were  retained,  and  the  political  maxims  of  the  last 
reign  remained  unchanged,  the  spirit  of  the  times  is  trans- 
formed. The  youth,  the  frankness,  and  even  that  ostentation 
in  which  the  secure  position  of  Henry  VIII.  enabled  him  to 
indulge,  broke  down  that  reserve  in  which  the  closer  nature 
and  more  perilous  position  of  his  father  induced  liiiu  con- 
tinually to  fence  himself. 

That  change  finds  its  most  adequate  expression  in  t]](!  papers 

VOL.  I.  u 


2  THE  REIGN  OF   HENRY   VHI.  [AD. 

to  which  the  modern  student  has  access  through  the  "  Calen- 
dar," pubHshed  in  our  days  by  the  authority  of  the  Govern- 
ment.    In  the  earher  pages  of  that  work  little  more  will  be 
found  than  the  names  and  offices  of  those  who  were  destined 
to  play  their  parts  in  the  great   drama   that   followed   and 
developed  itself  with  unexampled  rapidity  and  energy.     Whole 
pages    are   occupied   with   notices   of    commissions,    rolls   of 
sheriffs,    appointments    at    court — indications    of    a    regular 
order   long   established — as   if   nothing   had  interrupted   for 
centuries  the  even  flow  of  the  nation,  and  no  such  event  as 
the  Keformation  were  at  hand  to  break  up  the  great  deeps. 
But  as  the  reign  proceeds  questions  of  greater  moment  break 
upon  the  nation ;  the  correspondence  multiplies  in  variety  and 
detail.     The  individuality  of  the  writers  is  more  strikingly 
displayed  ;  a  new  era  has  risen  with  the  new  reign,  deepening 
every  hour  into  the  fuller  day.     A  more  lively  curiosity  in  the 
proceedings  of  their  contemporaries,  especially  on  the  Conti- 
nent,   from   which   they   had   long   been   virtually   excluded, 
pervades  the  mind  of  Englishmen.     A  fuller  conviction  exists 
of  their  own  strength,  as  of  men  entering  on  and  fully  pre- 
pared for  a  new  stage  of  existence.     Their  judgment  is  more 
confident  and  penetrating,  less  apt  to  submit  to  established 
traditions,  less  willing  to  defer  to  constituted  authority.     Their 
criticisms  on  things  passing  around  them  are  freer  and  not 
unfrequently  marked  with  indignation.     Their  reports  of  the 
times,  lively  and  minute,  contain  shrewd  observations  on  the 
characters,  appearance,  and  actions  of  those  with  whom  these 
English  agents  have  to  deal.     Already  they  begin  to  display 
the  peculiar  temper  and  genius  of  the  nation.     Plodding  and 
cautious,  not   easily  susceptible   of  emotion,  they  look  with 
apparent  stolidity,  real  or  assumed,  on  what  is  before  them. 
Inferior  in  statecraft  to  the  Frenchman  or  the  Spaniard,  the 
veteran  diplomatists  of  Europe  thought  it  scarcely  worth  while 
to  deceive  such  inexperienced  negociators.     It  was  no  credit 
to  assume  the  mask  before  men  who  had  never  sounded  the 
turbid  depths  of  political  intrigue.     Everywhere  on  the  Conti- 
nent  the   notion   prevailed   that   England  was  wealthy  and 
easily  duped,  even  by  intellects  of  no  heavier  calibre  than 
Maximilian's.     It  possessed  none  of  the  warlike  or  administra- 
tive genius  of  its  great  rival ;  and  none  of  the  prestige  which 
still  clung  to  the  Holy  Eoman  Empire.     It  was  not  fit  to  be 
named  in  the  same  breath  with  the  reserved  and  metaj)hysical 
Spaniard.     A  wealthy  parvenu  in  the  great  family  of  nations 


1509.]  HIS   ACCESSION.  3 

— no  more — its  riches  and  resources  were  to  patch  up  the 
broken  finances  of  Ferdinand,  Lewis,  or  the  Empire.  And 
the  correspondence  of  the  time  shows  the  little  pains  taken 
by  the  sovereigns  and  statesmen  of  the  age  to  conceal  their 
designs,  or  veil  the  contempt  they  entertained  for  English 
simpHcit}^  and  honesty. 

The  feeling  was  not  unnatural.  In  the  long  civil  wars 
which  had  desolated  the  country  during  the  last  century,  Eng- 
land had  lost  its  influence  on  the  Continent.  From  policy  and 
temperament  Henry  VII.  was  little  inclined  to  interfere  in 
foreign  politics.  It  was  enough  to  provide  for  the  security  of 
his  throne.  He  was  satisfied  to  feel  his  way  without  in- 
dulging in  needless  exhibitions  of  confidence  or  chivalrous 
designs,  which  might  bring  glory,  but  certainly  brought 
hazard.  Great  projects,  if  he  formed  any,  he  kept  to  himself, 
and  before  the  time  for  action  had  arrived  he  had  grown 
afraid  of  his  own  conceptions.  So,  during  his  reign,  England 
rose  to  no  higher  estimate  on  the  Continent  than  that  of  a  third 
or  fourth  rate  power.  Even  this  degree  of  importance  was 
rather  accorded  to  the  sagacity  of  a  king,  whose  wonderful 
abiUty  had  been  displayed  tlirough  twenty  years  of  unexampled 
dif&culty,  than  to  the  genius  and  character  of  the  nation  itself. 

But  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  the  respect  paid  to  the 
experience  and  reserve  of  Henry  VII.  should  be  as  submis- 
sively yielded  to  the  youth  of  Henry  VIII.  The  old  sovereigns 
of  Europe  were  not  at  all  prepared  to  recognize  his  right  of 
interference  in  continental  politics.  He  was  but  a  youth 
among  kings  and  emperors  old  enough  to  be  his  uncles.  His 
gaiety  of  disposition  and  unbounded  generosity  were  no  secret. 
Without  the  title  of  Catholic  or  Christian,  he  was  the  most 
Christian  and  Catholic  son  of  the  Church,  To  Ferdinand  he 
paid  the  deference  of  a  son-in-law,  to  Maximilian  that  of  a 
nephew.  Obligations  which  they  considered  as  nominal,  ho 
regarded  as  real ;  for  Pope,  father-in-law,  or  ally,  would 
never,  at  any  moment,  have  scrupled  to  sacrifice  to  their  own 
interests  a  son  and  a  nephew  who  entertained  such  romantic 
notions  of  duty.  The  difference  of  their  conceptions  of  honour 
from  his  is  abundantly  manifested  in  State  papers ;  and  no 
one  who  examines  these  sources  will  be  at  a  loss  to  see  that 
they  would  have  engaged  Henry  VIII.,  under  the  most 
solemn  promises  of  aid  and  fidelity,  to  the  most  perilous 
adventures,  and  then  have  shamelessiy  abandoned  him, 
whenever  it  suited  their  convenience. 


4  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

At  his  accession  to  the  crown  he  was  in  the  prime  of  youth 
and  manly  beauty.  Had  he  lived  in  a  more  poetic  age  and 
died  before  his  divorce,  he  might,  without  any  great  effort  of 
imagination,  have  stood  for  the  hero  of  an  epic  poem.  He 
possessed  just  those  qualities  which  Englishmen  admire  in 
their  rulers  at  all  times — a  fund  of  good  temper,  occasionally 
broken  by  sudden  bursts  of  anger,  vast  muscular  strength, 
and  unflinching  courage.  In  stature  he  towered  above  all  his 
contemporaries.  From  the  brilliant  crowd  that  surrounded 
him  he  could  at  once  be  distinguished  by  his  commanding 
figure,  and  the  superior  graces  of  his  person.  In  an  age 
remarkable  for  feats  of  strength,  and  when  bodily  skill  was 
held  in  highest  estimation,  no  one  outdid  him  in  the  tourna- 
ment. Man  and  horse  fell  before  him,  and  lance  after  lance, 
at  the  jousts  held  in  Tournay  in  honour  of  the  Lady  Margaret 
and  the  Emperor  Maximilian.^  It  may  be  thought  that  the 
courtesy  of  the  age  and  place  prevented  either  sul)ject  or 
foreigner  from  contesting  the  palm  with  one  who  commanded 
the  armies  of  England.  But  other  feats  are  recorded  of  his 
personal  skill  and  activity,  which  can  scarcely  be  attributed 
to  flattery.  He  was  no  less  an  adept  in  the  great  national 
weapon  than  in  the  more  exclusively  aristocratic  pastime  of 
the  tilt-yard.  He  drew  the  best  bow  of  his  age  ;  and  in  the 
mastery  of  it  was  a  match  for  the  tallest  archers  of  his  own 
guard.  Tayler,  then  clerk  of  the  parliament,  who  served  in 
the  siege  of  Tournay,  tells  in  his  amusing  Diary  ^  how  he  saw 
the  King  diverting  himself  with  his  archers  in  a  private 
garden,  and  as  much  surpassing  them  in  their  own  weapon  as 
he  exceeded  them  in  the  graces  of  his  person.  He  spoke 
French,  Italian,  and  Spanish.^     Of  his  proficiency  in  Latin  a 

^  Sagudino,    an     unexceptionable  excelling    all    the    others,    shivering 

witness,  says  :  "  The  preparations  for  many  lances,  and  unhorsing  one  of  his 

the  joust  being  at  length  accomplished,  opponents:     so    that    the    show    was 

this  most   serene  King  made  his  ap-  most  beautiful,  and  I  only  regret  not 

pearance    in    very    great    pomp.     On  havintr  time  to  describe    it   in   full" 

his  side  were  ten  of  these  noblemen  on  (Giustinian's  Desp.,  i.  81). 
most  capital  horses,  all  with  housings  ^  "  Calendar,"    vol.    i.    No.    4284. 

of  one  sort,  namely,  with  cloth  of  gold  This   work,  of  which  the  exact   title 

with  a  raised  pile,  his  Majesty's  war.  is  "  Letters  and  Papers,  Foreign  and 

horse  being  caparisoned   in  the  same  Domestic,    of    the    Reign    of    Hetiry 

manner.     And  in  truth  he  looked  like  VIII.,"  will  be  understood  to  be   re- 

St.    George,   in  person,  on    its   back.  ferred  to  hereafter  (whenever  no  other 

The  opposing  party  consisted  of  ten  authority  is  cited)  by  such  references 

other  noblemen,  also  in  rich  array,  and  as  I.  4284,  in  which  the  Roman  number 

very  well   mounted,  so   that  really  I  indicates  the  volume,  and  the  Arabic 

never  saw  such  a  sight.     Then   they  the  number  of  the  entry  in  that  volume, 

began  to  joust,  and  continued  tliis  sport  unless  a  page  is  specified  instead  of 

for  three  hours,  to  the  constant  sound  the  number  of  the  entiy. — Ed. 
of  the  trumpets  and  drams,  the  King  ^  In  the  Bibliotheque  Nationiale 


1509.]  HIS   ACCOMPLISHMENTS.  5 

specimen  has  been  preserved  among  the  letters  of  Erasmus. 
All  suspicion  of  its  genuineness  is  removed  by  the  positive 
assertion  of  Erasmus,  that  he  had  seen  the  original  and 
corrections  in  the  Prince's  own  hand.  In  the  business  of  the 
State,  he  was,  with  the  exception  of  Wolsey,  the  most  assiduous 
man  in  his  dominions.  He  read  and  noted  the  despatches  of 
his  ministers  and  ambassadors  without  the  aid  of  a  secretary 
or  interpreter.  He  spoke  French  fluently,  though  he  had 
never  been  in  France ;  and  we  have  a  curious  confirmation  of 
his  ability  in  this  respect  in  a  letter  from  the  Lady  Margaret 
of  Savoy.  When  Suffolk,  in  a  fit  of  uncouth  gallantry,  made 
love  to  this  lady  at  Tournay,  and  stole  a  ring  from  her  finger, 
she  was  unable  to  make  him  understand  her  wish  to  reclaim 
it,  from  his  ignorance  of  French.  "  One  night  at  Tournay, 
being  at  the  banquet,  after  the  banquet  he  put  himself  upon 
his  knees  before  me,  and  me  speaking  and  him  playing,  he 
drew  from  my  finger  the  ring  and  put  it  upon  his,  and  since 
(afterwards)  showed  it  to  me  :  and  I  took  to  laugh,  and  to 
him  said  that  he  was  a  thief,  and  that  I  thought  not  that  the 
Elng  had  with  him  led  thieves  out  of  his  country.  This  word 
larron  he  could  not  understand."  So  she  was  compelled  to  call 
in  the  aid  of  the  King  to  interpret  her  meaning  to  the  Duke.-^ 

Among  his  lighter  accomplishments,  still  more  rare 
among  the  sovereigns  and  nobility  of  that  age,  was  his  skill  in 
the  practice  and  theory  of  music.  We  learn  from  Sagudino,^ 
secretary  to  Giustinian,  who  visited  England  in  1515,  that  the 
King  practised  the  lute,  organ,  and  harpsichord^  "day  and 
night,"  and  was  passionately  fond  of  music.  "  He  was 
extremely  skilled  in  music,"  is  the  remark  of  Giustinian  an 
Italian,  accustomed  to  hear  the  best  composers  of  his  own 
country,  when  the  musicians  of  Italy  were  scarcely  less 
eminent  than  its  painters.*  Nicolo  Sagudino  writes  in  1517 
that  "he  remained  ten  days  at  Eichmond  with  the  ambassador, 
and  in  the  evening  they  enjoyed  hearing  the  King  play  and 
sing,  and  seeing  him  dance,  and  run  at  the  ring  by  day ;  in 
all  which  exercises  he  acquitted  himself  divinely." 

The  vast   number   of  warrants,  letters,    and  despatches 

at  Paris,  there  is  an  entire  letter  in  *  Or     spinet     accordiufj     to     Mr. 

French,  the  body  and  address  in  the  Brown's  note  at  p.  83.     The  inatrn- 

King's  hand,  evidently  composed  ex-  mcnt    was     in     all     jn-obability     tho 

clusively  by  himself.     It  is  addressed  virginals,  of  which  wo  hoar  so  much 

to  Francis  I.,  on  the  birth  of  Edward  in  those  days. —  I'jD. 
VI.  and  the  death  of  Jano  Seymour.  ■•  For  furtlier  proofs,  sco  Mr.    Jl. 

'   I.  4851.  Brown's  note  to  Giust.  Desp.,  i.  ^97. 

*  Gia.st.  Desp.,  i.  80. 


6  THE  KEIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

which  every  day  demanded  his  attention  and  required   his 
signature — and  such  a  signature  as  was  not  struck  off  in  a 
hurry — is  entirely  at  variance  with  the  popular  notion  that 
he  gave  himself  up  wholly  to  amusement,  and  was  indifferent 
to  more  serious  occupations.     Had  such  been  the  case  the 
business  of  the  nation  must  have  fallen  into  confusion  or 
come  to  a  stand,  and  we  should  have  seen  some  traces  of  it 
in  the  correspondence  of  the  time.     On  the  contrary,  nothing 
could  exceed  the  regularity  and  despatch  in  every  department 
of  the  State,  as  shown  by  the  documents  now  preserved  in  the 
Eecord  Office.     Above  all,  is  the  interest  Henry  took  in  the 
navy,  and  the  corresponding  zeal  he  was  able  to  make  others 
feel  for  this  important  branch  of  the  service.     Men  of  inferior 
rank  were  sure  of  his  favour  and  attentive  hearing  if  they  had 
any  experience  of  the  sea,  or  could  communicate  information 
on  this  favourite  subject.     Details  about  the  speed,  the  size, 
and  capacity  of  his  ships  never  came  amiss.     When  Gerard 
de  Pleine  arrived  in  England,  from  the  Lady  Margaret,  he 
found  the  King  in  his  new  ship  the  Great  Harry,  with  the 
Queen,  the  bishops,  and  the  nobility,^  acting  as  a  guide  to  his 
new  visitors.     Admiral  Howard,^  who  fell  in  the  great  action 
in  Brest,  dwells  with  minute  complacency  on  the  speed  of  the 
different  vessels   under  his  command.     He  enlarges  on  the 
theme,  with  the  pride  and  garrulity  of  a  sailor,  to  no  cold  or 
indifferent  ear :  "  Sir,  your  good  ship  is  the  flower,  I  trow,  of 
all   ships  that  ever  sailed." — "  Sir,   she  is  the  noblest  ship 
of  sail,  is  this  great  ship  at  this  hour,  that  I  trow  be  in 
Christendom."     And  then  he  goes  on  to  tell  how  they  came 
in  one  after  another.     "  And  there  was  a  foul  tail  between  the 
Mary  George  and  another."     And  he  begs  he  may  be  excused 
the  length  of  his  letter,  but  the  King  commanded  him  "to 
send  word  how  every  ship  did  sail." 
^^^    Sis  delight  in  gorgeous  pageantry  and  splendid  ceremonial, 
if  without  any  studied  design,  was  not  without   advantage. 
Cloth  of  gold  and  tissue,  New  Year's  gifts,  Christmas  mas- 
querades and  May-day  mummeries,  fell  with  heavy  expense 
on  the  nobility,  but  afforded  a  cheap  and  gratuitous  amuse- 
ment to  the  people.     The  roughest  of  the  populace  were  not 
excluded  from  their  share  in  the  enjoyment.     Sometimes,  in 
a  boisterous  fit  of  delight,  he  would  allow  and  even  invite  the 
lookers-on  to  scramble  for  the  rich  ornaments  of  his  own  dress 
and  those  of  his  courtiers.     Unlike  his  father,  he  showed  him- 

»  I.  5173.  *  I.  p.  514. 


\ 


1509.]  HIS   POPULARITY.  7 

self  everywhere.  He  entered  with  ease  into  the  sports  of 
others,  and  allowed  them  with  equal  ease  to  share  in  his.  To 
this  hearty  compliance  with  the  national  humour,  which  no 
subsequent  acts,  however  arbitrary  or  cruel,  could  altogether 
obliterate ;  to  the  impression  produced  by  his  frankness  and 
good  humour ;  to  his  unquestionable  courage,  and  ability  to 
hold  his  own  against  all  comers,  without  the  adventitious  aid 
of  his  exalted  position — Henry  VIII.  owed  much  of  that 
popularityjwhich  seems  unintelligible  to  modern  notions. 

In  fact,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  exaggerate  his  popularity 
during  those  early  years,  or  the  fascination  which  he  exercised 
over  the  minds  of  his  subjects.  The  old  feudal  nobility,  scarred 
and  broken  by  the  civil  broils  of  the  last  century,  had  never 
recovered  that  haughty  independence  which  had  once  success- 
fully defied  the  royal  authority.  Their  spirit  had  fallen  with 
their  power;  and  the  small  remnant  that  survived  remembered 
too  well  the  unbending  rule  of  Henry  VII.  to  venture  on  fresh 
rebellions.  They  acquiesced  in  the  succession  of  his  son  with 
a  tameness  and  submission  strikingly  at  variance  with  the 
rugged  insubordination  of  their  ancestors.  They  had  nothing 
to  fear,  if  they  had  little  to  hope  from  his  frankness.  The 
clergy,  insecure,  and  jealous  of  the  laity,  expected  to  find  a 
champion  in  one  who  was  universally  acknowledged  to  be  the 
most  orthodox  and  dutiful  son  of  the  Church  ;  whilst  the 
people,  looking  little  beyond  the^  gratification  of  the  hour, 
were  delighted  with  the  splendour  and  munificence  of  the  new 
reign,  which  stood  out  in  striking  contrast  to  the  parsimonious 
and  almost  puritanical  reserve  of  Henry  A^II. 

I  will  not  undertake  to  say  how  much  of  his  popularity 
was  to  be  attributed  to  other  motives  than  those  of  loyalty. 
The  position  of  the  King  was  remarkable ;  he  was  the  poise 
and  centre  of  the  nation,  and  no  party  in  it  could  afford  to 
neglect  his  favours.  The  factions  of  the  time  regarded  each 
other  with  watchful  jealousy.  Their  unanimity  was  that  of 
enemies  who  take  the  measure  of  each  other's  strength,  and 
are  unwilling  to  commence  the  strife.  In  the  council,  Norfolk, 
Surrey,  and  Buckingham  looked  with  jealous  eye  on  the  in- 
fluence of  Fox  and  the  ecclesiastics.  The  predilection  of 
Henry  for  theology,  his  love  of  learning  and  the  fine  arts, 
seemed  to  give  the  clergy  a  hold  upon  him  which  the  lay 
members  of  the  council  dreaded  and  despised.  The  bishops 
were  on  their  part  equally  apprehensive  of  Henry's  love  of 
enterprise,  and  his  dreams  of  conquest.     Outside  the  cabinet 


8  THE  EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

more  unanimity  apparently  prevailed.  The  old  Yorkist  faction 
showed  no  symptoms  of  animation.  With  great  wisdom  and 
forbearance  Henry  YII.  had  condoned  the  offences  of  many  of 
the  Northern  chieftains,  and  advanced  them  to  place,  if  not 
to  power.  The  heads  of  the  party  had  been  laid  in  the  dust, 
and  there  was  no  man  of  sufficient  trust  or  strength  to  bind 
the  smouldering  embers  into  a  firebrand,  and  launch  it  upon 
the  rich  provinces  of  the  South.  But  there  were  elements  of 
discord,  though  dispersed  and  for  the  present  harmless,  which 
one  false  move  at  home,  one  signal  discomfiture  abroad, 
would  have  brought  into  perilous  union.  These  Northern 
chiefs  still  remembered  Pdchard  HI.,  and  yielded  a  precarious 
subjection.  Brought  up  from  their  infancy  to  war,  nursed  in 
the  forays  of  the  Borders,  accustomed  to  obey  no  laws  except 
those  of  their  own  imposing,  they  looked  with  displeasure  on 
a  silken  King,  reigning  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  and 
treated  his  deputies  and  lieutenants  with  ill-disguised  insolence 
and  contempt.  The  gentry  and  nobility  of  Yorkshire,  Cum- 
berland, Westmoreland,  and  the  Borders  jjrojDortioned  their 
obedience  to  then*  inclination.  They  harboured  the  King's 
enemies,  they  thwarted  his  lieutenants  of  the  Marches,  or 
betrayed  them  to  the  Scotch. 

But  for  the  present,  and  in  the  South  at  least,  Englishmen 
had  found  at  last  a  living  counterpart  of  that  ideal  loyalty 
which  they  had  often  longed  for,  and  seldom  been  able  to 
realize.  That  ideal  is  not  ours  ;  it  falls  far  short  of  our  con- 
ceptions ;  still  it  must  be  judged  by  the  times.  And  no 
attentive  reader  of  the  papers  or  chronicles  of  the  reign  will  be 
at  a  loss  to  find  a  counterpart  to  those  passionate  expressions 
of  loyalty  which  Shakespeare  has  put  into  the  mouth  of  Wolsey. 

For  the  personal  appearance  of  the  King  we  are  indebted 
to  the  accounts  of  strangers.  Giustinian,  the  Venetian 
ambassador,  in  a  secret  memoir  intended  for  the  Seignory, 
thus  described  him  a  year  or  two  after  his  accession  :  "  His 
Majesty,"  he  says,  "  is  twenty-nine  years  old,  and  extremely 
handsome.  Nature  could  not  have  done  more  for  him.  He 
is  much  handsomer  than  any  other  sovereign  in  Christendom  ; 
a  great  deal  handsomer  than  the  King  of  France  ;  very  fair, 
and  his  whole  frame  admirably  proportioned.  On  hearing 
that  Francis  I.  wore  a  beard,  he  allowed  his  own  to  grow ; 
and  as  it  is  reddish,  he  has  now  got  a  beard  that  looks  like 
gold.  He  is  very  accomplished  ;  a  good  musician  ;  composes 
well;   is  a   most  capital  horseman;    a  fine  jouster;   speaks 


1509.]  HIS   PERSONAL   APPEARANCE.  9 

good  French,  Latin,  and  Spanish  ;  is  very  religious  ;  hears 
three  masses  daily  when  he  hunts,  and  sometimes  five  on 
other  days.  He  hears  the  Office  every  day  in  the  Queen's 
Chamber ;  that  is  to  say,  vesper  and  compline.  He  is  very 
fond  of  hunting,  and  never  takes  his  diversion  without  tiring 
eight  or  ten  horses,  which  he  causes  to  be  stationed  beforehand 
along  the  line  of  country  he  means  to  take ;  and  when  one  is 
tired  he  mounts  another,  and  before  he  gets  home  they  are  all 
exhausted.  He  is  extremely  fond  of  tennis,  at  which  game  it 
is  the  prettiest  thing  in  the  world  to  see  him  play,  his  fair 
skin  glowing  through  a  shirt  of  the  finest  texture."  ^ 

To  the  same  purport  is  an  earlier  account  written  in  1515 
by  the  Venetian  Pasqualigo.  "  His  Majesty,"  says  the  am- 
bassador, "is  the  handsomest  potentate  lever  set  eyes  on: 
above  the  usual  height,  with  an  extremely  fine  calf  to  his  leg ; 
his  complexion  very  fair  and  bright,  with  auburn  hair  combed 
straight  and  short  in  the  French  fashion,  and  a  round  face, 
so  very  beautiful  that  it  would  become  a  pretty  woman,  his 
throat  being  rather  long  and  thick."  ^ 

To  the  same  authorities  we  are  indebted  for  an  account  of 
the  King's  appearance  at  a  solemn  reception.  After  passing 
the  ranks  of  the  body-guard,  which  consisted  of  three  hundred 
halberdiers,  with  silver  breastplates,  who  "  were  all  as  big  as 
giants,"  he  and  his  fellows  were  brought  to  the  King.  They 
found  him  standing  under  a  canopy  of  cloth  of  gold,  leaning 
against  his  gilt  throne,  on  which  lay  a  gold  brocade  cushion, 
with  the  gold  sword  of  state.  "  He  wore  a  cap  of  crimson 
velvet,  in  the  French  fashion,  and  the  brim  was  looped  up  all 
round  with  lacets  and  gold  enamelled  tags.  His  dou])let  was 
in  the  Swiss  fashion,  striped  alternately  with  white  and 
crimson  satin,  and  his  hose  were  scarlet,  and  all  slashed  from 
the  knee  upwards.  Very  close  round  his  neck  he  had  a  gold 
collar,  from  which  there  hung  a  rough  cut  diamond,  the  size 
of  the  largest  walnut  I  ever  saw,  and  to  this  was  suspended  a 
most  ])eautiful  and  very  large  round  pearl.  His  mantle  was  of 
purple  velvet  lined  with  white  satin,  the  sleeves  open,  with 
a  train  more  than  four  Venetian  yards  long.  This  mantle 
was  girt  in  front  like  a  gown,  with  a  thick  gold  cord,  from 
which  there  hung  large  golden  acorns  like  those  suspended 
from  a  cardinal's  hat ;  over  this  mantle  was  a  very  handsome 
gold  collar,  with  a  pendant  St.  George  entirely  of  diamonds. 
Beneath  the  mantle  he  wore  a  pouch  of  cloth  of  gold,  which 

'  GiuBt.  Desp.,  ii.  ;j]2.  ^  Ibid.,  i.  8G. 


10  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

covered  a  dagger ;  and  his  fingers  were  one  mass  of  jewelled 
rings."  ^ 

But  all  this  splendour  must  have  appeared  more  dazzling 
when  contrasted  with  the  courts  and  persons  of  contemporary 
sovereigns.  Age  had  not  yet  abated  the  ambition  of  Lewis  XII. 
or  blunted  the  activity  of  his  intellect,  but  it  had  made  sad 
ravages  in  his  person.  Long  before  his  death  at  the  age  of 
fifty-three,  he  is  everywhere  spoken  of  as  an  infirm  old  man, 
the  victim  of  disease.  "  Has  not  the  King  of  France  had  the 
small  pox  ? "  asks  a  nobleman  gf  Gerard  de  Pleine,  with 
malicious  curiosity.^  The  terms  applied  to  him  in  Peter 
Martyr's  unceremonious  letters  are  far  from  flattering.  On^ 
his  own  acknowledgment  to  the  English  ambassadors,  "he 
was  a  sickly  body,"  and  not  fond  of  having  too  curious  eyes 
about  him.^  His  treasures  had  been  exhausted  in  ruinous 
wars.  He  had  neither  the  inclination  nor  the  means  for  that 
pomp  and  splendour  which  the  parsimony  of  Henry  VII.  had 
liberally  accumulated  for  Henry  VIII. 

The  bankrupt  Emperor  Maximilian,  "  the  man  of  few 
pence,"  as  he  was  styled  in  derision  throughout  Europe,  had 
even  less  means  for  rivalling  the  splendour  of  the  English 
court.  Always  receiving  large  sums  for  services  he  never 
performed,  the  activity  of  his  intellect  was  concentrated  on 
shifts  and  expedients  for  raising  money  which  never  made 
him  richer.  In  the  pursuit  of  it,  there  was  no  meanness  to 
which  he  would  not  stoop,  even  to  the  sale  of  honour  and 
of  empire.  The  correspondence  contained  in  this  volume 
abounds  with  such  instances.  •  The  most  barefaced  and  im- 
portunate of  beggars,  he  felt  no  delicacy  in  appropriating  to 
his  own  use  the  sums  entrusted  him  for  other  purposes.  And 
yet  he  set  up  a  claim  for  fastidiousness  and  modesty.  He 
was  too  scrupulous  and  conscientious ;  and  allowed  his  pride 
to  stand  in  the  way  of  his  interests  !  When  Dr.  Knight,  on 
April  18,  1514,  asked  Lady  Margaret  for  an  explanation  of 
some  suspicious  movements  of  the  Emperor,  then  coquetting 
with  France  in  violation  of  his  written  engagements,  she  said 
"she  Jid  not  know  the  reason;  but  from  the  manner  which 
was  pJbuliar  to  her  fat4]^r  and  her,  and  all  their  house,  there 
was  sfmething  he  would  have  which  he  would  not  press." 
She  llmented  that  such  was  the  manner  of  their  house ;  and 

'  Ginst.  Desp.,  i.  86.  says  he  was  the  victim  of  gout  and 

*  I.  5203.  elephantiasis.       (Ep.    427.)       But,    of 

^  Lewis    evidently   suffered    from  coui'se,  he  does  not  speak  technically. 
Bome  scorbutic  affection,  Peter  Martyr 


1509.]  CONTEMPORAKY   SOVEREIGNS.  11 

had  it  been  her  aud  her  father's  fortune  to  have  come  of  a 
low  house  and  humble  stock,  her  father  and  herself  must  have 
died  for  hunger,  "  rather  than  their  courage  should  have 
served  them  to  have  asked  a'-God's  name."  In  the  English 
camp  at  Tournay  he  took  pay  and  served  as  a  soldier  under 
the  King  of  England.  There  Tayler,  clerk  of  the  Parliament, 
saw  him,  and  thus  describes  this  renowned  Head  of  the  Holy 
Pioman  Empire  in  his  diary  already  noticed:  "  The  Emperor," 
he  says,^  "is  of  middle  height,  with  open  and  manly  counte- 
nance and  pale  complexion.  He  has  a  snub  nose  aud  a  grey 
beard;  is  affable,  frugal,  and  an  enemy  to  pomp.  His 
attendants  are  dressed  in  black  silk  or  woollen." 

The  portrait  of  Ferdinand,  as  drawn  by  contemporaneous 
and  independent  writers,  is  scarcely  more  flattering.  Peter 
Martyr,  who  was  in  constant  attendance  upon  him  at  Valla- 
dolid,  ridicules  his  uxoriousness,  in  common  with  the  rest  of 
the  world,  and  Machiavelli  with  equal  truth  condemns  his 
suspicious  and  niggardly  disposition.  His  ungenerous  or 
timid  j)olicy  had  estranged  from  his  councils  the  ablest  of  his 
nobility.  In  his  single  hand  he  still  grasped  all  the  adminis- 
trative functions  of  the  State,  which  had  long  since  outgrown 
his  powers.  "For  in  truth,  sovereign  lord,"  says  Stile,^ 
addressing  Henry  VIII.,  "  according  to  my  allegiance  and 
fidelity  unto  your  Highness,  the  King  of  Arragon,  your  good 
father,  is  a  noble,  wise,  and  well  fortunate  prince  of  himself, 
having  right  few  noblemen  of  his  council  unto  whom  he  may 
surely  trust,  except  that  it  be  his  secretary  Almacan,  and  a 
gentleman  called  Fernando  de  Vega,  and  other  such  men 
learned  in  the  law,  and  men  of  base  manner  (low  degree)  ; 
and  never  a  lord  meddles  in  his  counsel,  except  the  Conde  de 
Cifuentes,  which  is  a  wise  knight,  and  of  no  great  lands  nor 
rents.  For  the  which,  and  it  please  your  grace,  the  King  your 
said  good  father  taketh  great  labour  and  pain  with  his  royal 
person,  daily  giving  audience,  and  hearing  all  the  matters  and 
causes  of  this  realm,  and  of  all  his  realms,  himself,  be  they  of 
never  so  little  substance  ;  for  all  the  causes  here  that  resound 
not  to  their  own  profits,  or  perforce,  be  endless." 

Such  were  the  contemporaries  of  Henry  VIII.  As  their 
political  intrigues  occupy  a  prominent  place  in  history  from 
the  very  outset  of  the  reign,  some  remarks  on  the  object  which 
each  of  them  had  in  view,  will  enable  the  reader  to  follow  the 
course  of  events  with  greater  facility. 

'  I.  p.  625.  *  I.  490. 


12  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

For  the  first  two  years  after  Henry's  accession,  England 
remained  little  more  than  an  idle  spectatbr  of  foreign  in- 
trigues. The  league  of  Cambray  ^  had  virtually  excluded  it 
from  all  share  in  continental  politics,  and  prostrated  Europe 
at  the  feet  of  a  powerful  triumvirate.  Henry  VII.  had  quietly' 
acquiesced  in  the  dishonest  compact.  We  must  in  charity 
believe  that  his  closeness  towards  the  latter  years  of  his  life 
had  a  little  impaired  and  "  perished  his  understanding."^ 

Ostensibly  the  work  of  Margaret  of  Savoy,  the  real  author 
of  this  league  was  George  Cardinal  d'Amboise,  who  willingly 
abandoned  the  empty  honour  of  its  consummation  to  that 
princess,  the  daughter  and  confidante  of  Maximilian,  whilst 
the  substantial  benefits  of  its  arrangements  were  reaped  by 
France.  That  Maximilian  should  have  been  cajoled  might 
have  been  expected ;  that  Julius  II.  should  have  been  a  con- 
senting party  can  be  attributed  only  to  the  blindness  of  his 
exasperation  against  the  Venetians.  By  the  terms  of  the 
compact  Eimini  and  Ravenna  were  reserved  for  the  Pope  ; 
Brescia,  Bergamo,  Crema,  and  Cremona,  for  Lewis  XII. ;  the 
more  splendid  acquisitions  of  Verona,  Padua,  Vicenza,  and 
Friuli  fell  to  Maximilian  ;  Trano  and  Otranto  to  Ferdinand. 
The  real  advantage  rested  with  Lewis.  He  was  content  for 
the  time  to  abandon  his  claim  upon  the  rich  cities  of  the 
south ;  for  what  man  of  military  genius  would  commit  so 
capital  a  blunder  as  to  make  the  southern  peninsula  of  Italy 
the  basis  of  great  military  operations  ?  He  needed,  moreover, 
Ferdinand's  friendship.  Content  with  the  modest  acquisition 
of  Crema  and  Cremona,  he  abandoned  to  Maximilian  the  rich 
prizes  of  Padua  and  Verona.  But  Padua  and  Verona  were 
more  tempting  to  sight  than  tractable  to  the  touch.  Their 
subjection  would  have  demanded  all  the  energy,  skill,  and 
resources  which  the  greatest  military  power  could  command  ; 
it  might  be  left  with  perfect  safety  to  the  poor,  ill-adjusted, 
desultory  efi^orts  of  one  whose  greatest  schemes  evaporated  in 
bluster.  Whilst  Ferdinand,  safe  in  the  possession  of  a  wealthy 
and  obedient  son-in-law,  was  weaving  his  nets,  like  a  solitary 
spider,  for  his  own  exclusive  advantage,  whilst  Julius  was 
snorting  vengeance,  and  Maximilian  dozing  over  his  stove,^ 

'  Concluded  Dec.  1,  1508.  publications   show   that  he    tried  to 

*  Bacon's  Essay  on  "  Friendship."  separate    the    confederates.       But    it 

— It   is,   perhaps,    too   much    to   say  was  not  his  interest  to  quarrel  with 

that  Heniy  VII.  "  acquiesced  in  the  France. — Ed. 

dishonest  compact."     He  simply  had  '  The  expression  of  Erasmus.    His 

nothing   to   do   with   it ;   and  recent  Flemish  subjects  were  even  less  com- 


Io09.]  LEWIS   XII.   IN   ITALY.  13 

Lewis  had  started  off  to  the  scene  of  conquest.  With  the 
energy  and  adrc^tness  of  his  nation,  he  had  opened  the 
campaign  as  early  as  April,  1509.  By  the  battle  of  Agnadel, 
on  the  14th  May,  and  the  capture  of  the  Venetian  general 
D'Alviano,  he  had  become  master  in  effect  of  the  north  of 
Italy. 

This  was  evidently  more  than  his  good  friends  and  con- 
federates had  anticipated,  with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of 
Maximilian.  He  writes  with  unaffected  delight  to  his  daughter 
Margaret  of  the  successes  of  his  faithful  ally,  and  is  persuaded 
that  such  good  fortune  is  only  a  prelude  to  that  promised  aid 
of  five  hundred  lances  which  Lewis  had  engaged  to  lend  him 
for  the  reduction  of  Padua.  With  very  different  feelings 
Julius  beheld  the  ascendancy  of  his  hated  rival.  He  bit  his 
lips  and  stroked  his  beard  in  vexation.^  He  had  baited  the 
trap  for  himself  by  his  own  intemperate  passion.  Ferdinand 
concealed  his  feelings.  He  would  not  entrust  them  even  to 
his  son-in-law.  So  much  of  them,  however,  as  he  permitted 
to  transpire  are  made  known  to  us  in  a  letter  of  John  Stile, 
then  in  the  court  of  Arragon,  dated  September  9,  1509.^ 
"  Touching  the  commandment  of  your  Highness,"  proceeds 
the  ambassador  in  his  quaint  and  homely  style,  "  I  demanded 
of  the  King  your  good  father,  how  that  his  Majesty  intendeth 
for  to  be  and  continue  in  amity  with  the  Emperor  and  with 
the  French  King,  and  with  evcriche  of  the  said  princes.  To 
the  which,  an  it  please  your  Grace,  the  answer  of  the  King 
your  good  father  was,  that  he  is  fully  determined  for  to  con- 
tinue in  amity  with  the  Emperor,  for  that  there  is  none  other 
cause  reasonable  betwixt  them,  by  the  which  any  variance  or 
breach  of  peace  should  be  ;  trusting  that  the  Emperor  will  be 
reformed,  and  suffer  him  with  the  governacion  of  the  realm  of 
Castile  " — the  great  point  in  debate  between  them.  "  And  as 
touching  the  French  King,  that  he  also  intendeth  for  to  con- 
tinue in  amity  with  him,  as  lonr/  as  that  your  Hifjlincss  and 
your  fjood  father  shall  think  standeth  luith  the  honours  and  profits 
of  your  hif/hness,  and  no  longer  "  Then  follows  this  cautious 
advice  :  "  The  King  your  said  good  father  being  joyous  and 
glad  that  your  highness  is  in  amity  and  good  peace  with  all 
Christian  Princes,  and  his  Majesty  not  counselling  nor  advising 

plimptitary.     "Jo  pric  h  Dicu  quo  sa  230). 

tarditc  no  soit  cause  do  heaucoup  do  '   "  Pras  ira  in  tnrbatorcm  nalliim 

maux.     ,7e  tie  SQciij  quel  diable  fait  ses  nutriro  barbam  ciii<,nilo  tonus  dicitur  " 

affaires  si  mulheureux"  (Do    \invj;o  to  (Pot.  Martyr,  Ep.  451). 
Marguerite.     Lett,  do   Louis   Xll.  i.  *  I.  490. 


14  THE   EEIGN   OF  HENRY  YHI.  [A.D. 

your  highness  as  yet  for  to  move  any  war  unto  any  outward 
jorinces,  unless  that  great  causes  shall  move  your  highness  there- 
unto." 

From  this  it  appears  that  Henry  had  already  sounded  the 
intentions  of  Ferdinand  as  to  an  expedition  against  France. 
But  gladly  as  Ferdinand  would  have  crippled  the  jjower  of 
France,  he  dreaded  no  less  the  influence  of  Maximilian.  More 
strangely  still,  he  was  afraid  of  his  dutiful  son-in-law.  The 
marriage  of  the  Princess  Mary  with  Archduke  Charles  must 
naturally  favour  a  settlement  of  the  claims  of  the  latter  to 
Castile — claims  which  Ferdinand  had  resolved  never  to  recog- 
nize. To  friend  or  enemy  he  measured  his  conduct  hy  his 
fears  ;  as  this  party  or  that  gained  the  ascendancy,  and  were 
likely  to  support  the  rights  of  the  Archduke,  Ferdinand  turned 
against  them.  For  the  present,  however,  the  Emperor  was 
the  more  to  be  dreaded.  The  turn  of  affairs  in  Italy  alarmed 
the  aj)prehensions  of  Ferdinand.  "  An  it  please  your  grace," 
says  Stile,^  "  the  King  of  Arragon,  your  good  father,  doth  not 
nor  will  not  take  pleasure  in  the  Emperor's  prosperous  estate. 
He  is  in  doubt  of  the  realm  of  Naples  that  they  woll  yield 
themselves  unto  the  Emperor  for  the  Prince  of  Castile,  in  case 
that  the  Emperor's  cause  prospers  in  Italy."  So,  without 
openly  opposing,  Ferdinand  threw  every  sort  of  discourage- 
ment in  the  way  of  Maximilian,  refused  to  let  his  fleet  aid  in 
the  conquest  of  the  Venetians,  and  masked  his  conduct  with  so 
much  doubt  and  hesitation  that  the  poor  Emperor  was  in  a 
continual  flutter  of  hope  and  despair — at  once  amused, 
encouraged,  and  betrayed. 

With  the  tact  of  a  woman,  Margaret  saw  through  the 
artifice  ;  but  the  simple-minded  Emperor,  in  the  conceit  of  his 
own  sagacity,  outwitted  his  daughter  to  his  own  disadvantage. 
He  would  not  be  led  by  a  woman.  He  offered  to  accept  the 
terms  proposed  him  by  Ferdinand,  in  the  hope  of  securing  his 
assistance  in  Italy.^  To  the  delight  of  Margaret,^  the  arrange- 
ment ended  in  a  total  rupture.  Meanwhile  we  find  by  the 
letters  of  Stile,  of  the  3rd  of  December,^  that  Henry  had  not  only 
made  a  proffer  of  his  services  to  Ferdinand,  but  had  since  been 
in  correspondence  with  France.  "  Your  noble  good  father  is 
not  contented  nor  pleased  with  the  answers  the  French  King 

'  I.  490,  pp.  fi9,  70.  ^  Lettres  de  Max.  et  de  Marg.,  i. 

^  See     his     extraordinary    letter,  p.  189.  Oct. 
Sept.   5,  1509,   aud   March    31,    1510  *  1509.      Recited   in  one  of   11th 

(Le    Glay's    Lettres   de    Max.    et   de  of  Jan.,  1510,  p.  113. 
Marg.,  i.  185,  252). 


1510.] 


CORDIALITY   OF   ENGLAND   AND   FRANCE. 


15 


made  to  your  Highness."  These  letters  have  not  been  pre- 
served. But  we  know  the  result.  Ferdinand,  now  thoroughly 
alarmed,  desired  Henry  to  send  a  private  mission  to  the 
Emperor,  and  induce  him  to  join  in  a  league  which  should 
comprehend  the  Emperor,  England,  Ferdinand,  and  the 
Prince  of  Castile.  Both  were  to  write  secretly  to  the  Pope 
and  obtain  his  concurrence  "to  the  intent  that  the  French 
King  shall  not  nor  may  not  attain  unto  his  cruel  purpose  for 
to  destroy  all  the  country  of  Italy,"  ^ 

But  the  resolutions  of  Ferdinand  and  Maximilian  were  not 
to  be  trusted.  With  war  on  their  lips  they  were  ready  to 
temporize ;  one  to  gain  money,  the  other  because  peace  and 
policy  were  more  advantageous  than  violence.  France  had 
nothing  to  fear  from  the  indecision  of  the  Emperor,  and 
nothing  to  hope  from  the  promises  of  Ferdinand.  Secret 
negociation  went  on  through  most  part  of  the  year  1510, 
without  any  open  rupture.  The  fiery  Julius  employed  all  his 
energies,  but  in  vain,  to  detach  Ferdinand  and  Maximilian 
from  their  unholy  ally.  Every  day  the  power  of  France  grew 
strong  in  Italy,  and  threatened  to  overawe  the  papacy.  But 
nobody  moved.  Even  England  continued  indifferent  ajjpa- 
rently.  Pageants  and  tournaments  constituted  its  most 
serious  occupations.  If  more  ambitious  designs  had  entered 
the  thoughts  of  Henry  VIII.,  young  as  he  was,  he  still 
possessed  enough  of  his  father's  reserve  to  conceal  his  future 
intentions.  As  late  as  the  26th  of  July,  1510,  Docwra  and 
West,  the  English  ambassadors,  were  sent  to  Paris  and 
received  with  every  demonstration  of  respect.  The  cordiality 
of  the  two  kings  continued  unabated.  West,  on  the  part  of 
the  King  of  England,  enlarged  on  the  unalterable  affection 
between  the  two  crowns,  to  the  extreme  satisfaction  of 
Lewis.^  The  King  of  England  would  do  more,  he  said,  to 
oblige  his  Most  Christian  Majesty  than  for  all  other  princes  in 
the  wide  world.  The  King  of  France  was  not  a  whit  behind 
in  profuseness  of  compliments. 


»  I.  p.  115. 

«  See  I.  No.  1104,  sq.  In  tho 
Lett,  de  Louis  XII.  (i.  263),  Dr.  Mota, 
who  was  present  at  tho  audience 
given  to  these  ambassadors,  thus 
describes  the  interview  :  "  Nudius 
tertius  immediate  post  f)randiural{cf(i8 
sua  Kristianissima  Majestas  dcdit  cia 
primam  audientiam,  in  qua  nos  in- 
terfuimus.  Scribam  per  aliam  postam 
aliqua  de  particulariljus  ;  nuncsoium- 
niodo  BignilicamuB   baec   pauca,  quod 


Doctor  (West)  non  potuisset  habere 
orationern  ma^^is  ad  honoreiu  ct  satis- 
fjictio'.iem  Kristianissiini  Ref^is ;  ot 
inter  csetera  dixit,  quod  plus  amabat 
et  ajstimabat  et  erat  factuius  plus  pro 
sua  majcstate  qiiam  pro  cx'teria  om- 
nibus 1  iriiici[)ibus.  Item  dixit  Hepem 
I'oro  semper  tnnquam  bdiium  ob 
raturalemlilium  Kristianissimi  Jie^j^is; 
ct  ox  piirto  sua)  majestatis  fuit  ctiam 
oiJlimo  rcspoDBum." 


16  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [AD. 

This  is  not  the  first  time  in  history  that  France,  by  its 
singular  adroitness  and  dexterity,  saw  the  Continent  at  its  feet. 
Nor  was  it  the  only  time  that  it  lost  all  the  advantages  it  had 
gained,  by  a  single  act  of  folly  and  bravado.  Upon  the 
ostensible  pretext  of  ecclesiastical  reform,  but  in  reality  to 
revenge  himself  on  Julius  II.,  Lewis  set  on  foot  the  Council  at 
Pisa.  The  most  zealous  advocate  for  ecclesiastical  reform 
could  not  be  misled  by  such  pretences.  He  could  not  expect 
to  see  the  spirit  of  peace  and  holiness  shedding  its  influence 
over  an  assembly  summoned  for  the  purposes  of  strife  and 
division,  however  much,  in  common  with  many  of  his  age,  he 
might  have  looked  to  a  General  Council  as  the  only  remedy 
for  the  troubles  of  Christendom.  Barely  supported  by  a  few 
prelates  notoriously  in  the  interests  of  France,  the  Council  fell 
into  discredit  from  the  beginning.^  Its  promoters,  in  their 
anxiety  to  gain  credit  with  the  world,  published  the  names  of 
certain  cardinals  among  its  adherents  without  their  sanction. 
They  were  glad  to  disavow  it  and  denounce  it.  The  secret 
and  open  enemies  of  Lewis  eagerly  laid  hold  of  the  pretext  to 
stigmatize  him  as  the  enemy  of  Holy  Church.  The  "  King 
Catholic  "  could  do  no  less  than  come  forward  in  its  defence. 
Henry,  the  Pope's  most  obedient  son,  was  bound  to  assert  the 
cause  of  his  spiritual  father.  From  a  turbulent  sovereign, 
engaged  in  advancing  his  own  exclusive  interests,  Julius  was 
suddenly  transformed  into  the  champion  of  Christendom.  He 
stood  before  the  eyes  of  Europe  as  the  uncompromising 
defender  of  that  pure  Faith  of  which  Lewis  and  the  Turk 
were  the  deadliest  and  most  accursed  enemies.  The  world 
justified  the  calumny.  The  arrogance  of  the  French,  and  the 
cruel  use  they  had  made  of  their  victories  in  Italy,  recalled  to 
the  memories  of  men  the  sanguinary  persecutions  of  their 
Christian  brethren  by  the  Infidels.  A  parallel  to  "  the  Son  of 
Iniquity  "  had  been  found  in  the  Most  Christian  King.  Nor 
was  Julius  slow  to  see  and  seize  his  advantage.  Nothing 
could  daunt  his  indomitable  energy.  He  flourished  both 
swords.  He  opposed  Council  to  Council,  and  army  to  army. 
He  had  fallen  sick  through  anxiety  and  vexation,  and  had  been 
like  to  die.  Condoling  cardinals  had  fluttered  round  his 
death-bed,  as  they  supposed,  and  his  attendants  had  stripped 
him  to  his  last  shirt.  But  he  rose  up  when  given  over,  and 
in  midwinter  led  his  troops  on  foot  in  the  midst  of  ice  and 
snow.     Ferdinand  at  once  made  an  alliance  with  the  Pope 

»  Wingtield,  May  24,  1511.     See  Calendar. 


1511.]  THE  COUNCIL  OF  PISA.  17 

and  the  Venetians/  and  used  all  his  influence  to  induce  Henry 
to  join. 

Maximilian,  in  the  mean  time,  marching  pari  passu  "^ith 
Lewis,  had  taken  to  himself  with  inexpressible  complacency 
the  notion  of  an  opposition  Council.     He  had  requested  his 
daughter  Margaret  to  send  deputies  to  Pisa.     She  had  told 
him,  like  a  sensible  woman,  "  Monseigneur,  under  your  great 
correction,  it  seems  to  me  you  ought  not  to  mix  yourself  up 
with  this  Council  which  is  to  be  held  at  Pisa.     Leave  it  to  the 
Pope,  to  whom  the  cognizance  of  such  things  belongs."     He 
was  not  to  be  dissuaded.     Again  he  urges  ;  again  she  replies  : 
"  Touching   the  sending  of  deputies  to  Pisa,  of  which  you 
have  written  to  me,  Monseigneur,  it  seems  to  me,  that  as  you 
are  the  governor  of  Monseigneur  my  nephew,  and  my  lord 
and  father,  it  will  be  sufficient  if  you  send  deputies  for  us 
both.     And,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  our  finances  here  are  so 
low  we   cannot   muster   a    penny  for    any   such    purpose." 
Abandoned   by  all,  he  was  now  left  to  weather  the   storm 
alone.     Pieproach  and  contumely  pressed  upon  him  from  all 
sides.   He  was  taunted  for  his  heresy  by  Julius  and  Ferdinand."^ 
Even  Henry  could  not  help  telling  him  that  those  who  had 
advised  or  supported  the  "  Conciliable,"  as  he  contemptuously 
called  it,  had  incurred  the  censures  of  the  Church ;  and  he 
read  MaximiHan  a  grave  lecture  on  the  sinfulness  of  setting  at 
defiance  the  authority  of  his  Holy  Father.^ 

It  was  in  vain  for  Lewis  or  the  Council  to  make  head 
against  the  general  prejudice.  The  loss  of  Bologna  by  the 
Pope,  May,  loll,  the  splendid  military  achievements  of 
Gaston  de  Foix,*  the  siege  of  Brescia  (Feb.  19,  1512),  the 
victory  at  Eavenna  (April  11,  1512),  the  terrors  inspired  by 

'  Nov.  1510.  forms  Lewis  that  though   Ferdinand 

*  Lett,  de  Max.  ct  Marg.,  i.  421.  imagined  he  could  do  as  he  liked  with 

^  1. 1828,  4182.    From  a  letter  pre-  England,  himself  and  Daiizolles  had 

served  in  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale  devices  in  store  to  break  the  project, 

at  Paris  (8464  =  2928),  it  appears  that  He     then    enters    largely    into    the 

Julias  had  sent  a  nuncio  into  England  villainous  schemes  ho  intended  to  put 

asearly  as  June,  1511,  to  engage  Henry  in    use    to    defeat    the    purposes    for 

in    a    league   against   France.      The  which  he  was  sent  by  the  Pope,  and 

writer,  no  less  a  person  than  the  nuncio  make  Henry  believe  that  his  mission 

himself,  proceeds  to  betray  the  whole  was  really  intended  for  the  very  oppo- 

design  to  Lewis;   tells  him  that  the  site  purpose  for  which  it  was  ostensibly 

Papal  army  is  in  confusion,  that  the  despatched.    The  letter  is  dated  from 

King  of  Arragon  is  desirous  of  peace,  London,    June,    1511  ;    but    who    the 

and  had  sent  his  troops  from  Africa  traitor  was,  I  have  not  been  ablo  to 

to  Naples  ;  that  he  wished  for  a  league  discover. 

between  himself,  the  Pope,  and  Eng-  ''  For  the  ultimate  fate  of  Gaston 

land ;    and   to  this   Henry   was   well  de  Foix,  not  mentioned  by  any  other 

disposed.     But  the  writer  further  in-  writers,  see  I.  3311. 

VOL.  1.  C 


18  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

his  conquests,  failed  to  regain  for  Lewis  the  advantages  he 
had  forfeited.  Before  the  winter  of  1512  he  had  lost  every 
foot  of  ground  in  Italy,  on  which  so  much  blood  and  treasure 
had  been  spent.  Justice  sits  at  the  wheel  of  Fortune.  The 
prime  agent  of  the  League  of  Cambray  against  the  unhappy 
Venetians  was  to  reap  the  fruits  of  his  own  lessons.  Lewis 
now  saw  himself  face  to  face  with  a  powerful  confederacy,^ 
consisting  of  the  Pope,  the  Emperor,  the  Kings  of  Arragon 
and  England.  The  cruelties  of  which  he  had  been  guilty  in 
Italy  were  to  be  retaliated  on  himself.  In  the  swirling  of  St. 
Peter's  boat,^  consequent  upon  the  dissensions  raised  by  this 
degenerate  son  of  the  Church,  his  more  obedient  brothers  had 
taken  counsel  together,  by  letters  and  messengers,  how  they 
should  best  protect  it  from  the  storm,  and  find  a  remedy,  if 
need  be,  even  to  the  cutting  off  of  the  rebellious  member. 

Tandem  sic  Deo  disponente,  it  was  arranged  that  Ferdinand 
of  Arragon  should  invade  the  Southern,  England  the  Western 
and  the  central  provinces.  Maximilian  was  to  receive  200,000 
gold  crowns  for  making  himself  generally  useful  in  molesting 
the  extra-Italian  dominions  of  Lewis.  Julius,  with  anathemas 
in  one  hand  and  blessings  in  the  other,  should  fulminate  his 
censures,  as  often  as  required  by  his  allies,  against  all  who 
upheld  and  comforted  this  prodigal  son  who  had  endeavoured 
to  rend  the  indivisible  coat  of  Christ's  Church ;  whilst  plenary 
indulgence  was  in  store  for  those  who  assisted  this  Holy 
Confederacy  with  men  and  victuals. 

Whilst  these  matters  had  been  in  preparation,  England  in 
the  summer  of  1512  had  fleshed  its  sword  in  a  continental 
war — now  for  the  first  time  after  many  years  of  inaction,  for 
the  expedition  of  Lord  Darcy  to  Cadiz  in  1511  had  proceeded 
no  further,  owing  to  mutual  jealousies.  By  arrangement 
between  Henry  and  Ferdinand,  a  simultaneous  attack  was  to 
be  made  upon  France  in  opposite  quarters.^  Ferdinand, 
supported  by  a  large  body  of  English  troops  under  the 
Marquis  of  Dorset,  was  to  invade  Guienne,  whilst  Henry 
himself  prepared  to  attack  Normandy  or  Picardy.  A  measure 
of  so  much  boldness  can  be  attributed  to  no  other  genius  than 
Wolsey's,  and  we  learn  from  the  letters  of  Knight,  that  he 
was  generally  reputed  the  author  of  the  war.*    The  armament 

*  The  Holy  League,  concluded  be-  (Rym.  xiii.  358). 
tween  the  Pope  and  Ferdinand,  Oct.  ^  See   I.   3243,   3298,  3313,  3350, 

11  ;   joined  by  Henry  the  December  3352,   3355,   3356,  3388,   3451,  3584, 

following.  3593,  3614,  3662. 

2  "  Petri     navicula      fluctnante "  *  See  I.  3356  and  3451. 


1512.]  WAR  WITH   FRANCE.  19 

was  ready  by  May,  1512/  and  landed  on  the  coast  of  Spain, 
June  7."^    But  even  the  genius  of  Wolsey  could  not  enforce 
strict  discipline  amongst  raw  soldiers  drawn  from  hasty  levies, 
and  impatient  of  service  in  a  foreign  land.     Great  as   his 
energy   was,   it   failed   to  overcome  the   incapacity  of   com- 
manders,   whose   personal   bravery   but   ill  atoned  for   their 
inexperience.     Insubordination  broke  out  in  the  fleet  and  the 
army ;  the  seamen  plundered  the  victuals  when  the  soldiers 
were  sea-sick ;  ^  no  provision  had  been  made  for  their  landing, 
and  no  tents  for  their  shelter.     The  troops  slept  out  in  the 
fields  and  under  bushes,  exposed  to  incessant  rains,  and  the 
tropical  sun  of  a  Spanish  sky.     The  season  was  pestilential ;  ^ 
the  hot  wines  of  Spain  increased  the  evil ;  worst  of  all,  no 
beer  was  to  be  had,  and  the  English  had  not  yet  learnt  to  fight 
without  it.     "And  it  please  your  Grace,"  says  Stile,  in  his 
quaint  fashion,  "the  greatest  lack  of  victuals  that  is  here  is 
of  beer,  for  your  subjects  had  lever  for  to  di-iuk  beer  than 
wine  or  cider;  for  the  hot  wines  doth  harm  them,  and  the 
cider  doth  cast  them  in  disease  and  sickness."     The  disorders 
and    discontents   were    augmented    by   their   total   inaction. 
Faithless  to  all  his  promises,  Ferdinand  had  failed  to  join 
them.     He  answered  the  repeated  entreaties  of  the  Marquis 
with  excuses  for  delay.     Instead  of  adhering  to  his  arrange- 
ment made  with  Henry,  he  was  busy  in  securing  for  himself 
the   kingdom   of   Navarre.     In   August,    Stile   writes   to  the 
King:^  "And  it  please  your  grace,   as   touching  the   King 
yom-  good  father  and  his  council,  as  ever  before  this,  accord- 
ing to  the  truth,  I  have  certified  unto  joiiv  grace  tliat  their 
words  and  writings  be  so  diligent  and  so  fair,  and  their  deeds 
so  immeasurably  slack,  that  I  cannot  judge,   say,   ne  write 
what  is  to  be  thought  or  done ;  and  continually  I  do  write, 
according  to  the  commandment  of  your  grace,  to  the  King 
your   good   father,  and   always   his  Majesty,  by  his  letters, 
answereth  that  he  will  perform  everything  unto  3^our  grace, 
and  that  all  the  delays  of  time  hath  been  for  the  best  ad- 
vantage for  your  enterprize  of  Guicnne,  that  Navarre  should 
be  first  put  in  a  surety ;  the  which  surety  could  not  be  had 
otherwise  than  it  is  now  had.     And  of  a  surety.   Sovereign 
Lord,  at  my  last  being  with  the  King  your  good  father,  I  was 
so  plain  with  his   highness   that  I  never   saw  his   Majesty 

'  I.  3188.  ^  I.  3243. 

'  Not  without  its  parallel  in  modem  times. 

♦  I.  3298.  "  I.  3;J55 


20  THE    KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

further  out  of  patience  than  with  me  at  that  time,  saying  I 
believed  not  him,  his  Majesty  affirming  with  many  oaths  that 
all  his  drift  and  entent  was  for  the  surety  and  weal  of  the 
Holy  Church,  and  for  your  enterprize  of  Guienne.  And  in 
case,  Sovereign  Lord,  that  the  entent  or  purpose  of  his 
Majesty  he  otherwise,  it  is  hard  for  to  trust  the  oaths  and 
words  of  a  prince  or  any  other  Christian  man  that  so  sweareth 
or  sayeth  it.  It  is  evidently  seen  and  known,  by  his  policy 
and  long  drifts  he  attaineth  many  things  to  other  men's 
pains." 

No  wonder  the  troops  became  intractable,  and  disaffection 
sprang  up  among  officers  and  men.^  A  large  number  refused 
to  serve  any  longer  unless  their  wages  were  increased  from 
6d.  to  8^.  the  day.  The  dearness  of  all  necessaries  in  Spain, 
even  the  commonest,  placed  them  out  of  the  reach  of  the 
ordinary  soldier.  The  mutiny  was  quelled,  and  one  of  the 
ringleaders  suffered.  But  the  inefficient  management  of  those 
in  command  is  strongly  condemned  in  the  summary  expres- 
sions of  Dr.  Knight,  who  was  then  in  the  camp,  and  sent 
home  to  Wolsey  accounts  of  its  mismanagement.  No  martial 
exercises  were  kept,  no  training  was  insisted  on,  musters  were 
neglected,  many  had  been  slain,  others  had  died,  and  some 
had  deserted.  The  instructions  they  received  were  dis- 
regarded, "  and  many  of  our  council,"  he  concludes  with 
bitter  sarcasm,  "  may  suffer  no  counsel." 

A  letter  from  the  same  writer  to  Wolsey,^  dated  4th  of 
October,  presents  the  rare  and  humiliating  spectacle  of  a 
council  of  war  held  by  the  English  commanders  at  St.  Sebas- 
tian on  the  28th  of  Aug.,  when  the  disaffection  had  reached 
its  height.  By  a  breach  of  discipline,  unexampled  in  the 
military  annals  of  England,  the  army  resolved  to  return 
home,  in  direct  violation  of  the  King's  commands.  They  had 
provided  ships  and  baked  their  biscuit  by  the  first  week  in 
October,  turning  a  deaf  ear  to  the  entreaties  of  Ferdinand, 
and  threatening  their  officers  who  dared  advise  them  to  stay. 
According  to  Polydore  Vergil,  who  was  exceedingly  well  in- 
formed on  the  subject,  and  evidently  compiled  this  portion  of 
his  history  from  authentic  materials,  the  indignation  of  the 
King  was  unbounded.  He  wrote  to  Ferdinand  to  stop  them 
at  all  hazards,  and  cut  every  man's  throat  who  refused 
obedience.  But  the  order  came  too  late.  The  world  was 
breathless  with  astonishment  at  such  a  flagrant  act  of  in- 

'  I.  3356.  2  I.  3451. 


1512.]  THE   TROOPS   RETURN   HOME.  21 

subordination,  and  expected  from  the  King  some  signal  mark 
of  his  displeasure.  He  would  have  brought  the  Manpiis  and 
his  associates  to  trial.^  But  it  was  hard  to  discriminate 
where  all  were  guilty  alike.  The  matter  was  hushed  up,  and 
further  proceedings  were  abandoned  at  the  earnest  request  of 
the  Council. 

The  news  of  this  disgrace  was  not  unacceptable  to  foreign 
coui-ts  and  ministers.  It  confirmed  the  mean  opinion  enter- 
tained by  them  of  the  military  inexperience  of  Henry,  and 
deepened  their  conviction  of  English  intractability  and  mis- 
management. Even  the  Emperor  and  his  daughter  Margaret, 
though  on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy,  and  stooping  to  every  sort 
of  meanness  to  extract  a  loan  of  50,000  crowns  from  England, 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  throwing  the  popular  taunt 
into  the  teeth  of  the  English  ambassador:  "You  see,"  said 
they,  "Englishmen  have  so  long  abstained  from  war,  they 
lack  experience  from  disuse;  and,"  added  Margaret,  "if  the 
report  be  true,  they  are  sick  of  it  already."  ^  The  sarcasm 
circulated  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  was  so  bitterly  felt,  that 
Henry  considered  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  draw  up  formal 
instructions  for  his  ambassadors,  stating  that  Ferdinand  and 
he  had  mutually  agreed  upon  the  return  of  the  troops  in 
consequence  of  the  rainy  weather.^ 

In  fact,  so  signal  a  failure  at  the  outset  of  his  reign,  and 
in  the  first  attempt  which  England  had  made  for  many  years 
to  take  part  in  a  continental  war,  was  infinitely  more  disas- 
trous than  it  appears  to  us  at  this  day,  and  threw  an  air  of 
ridicule  over  the  King's  more  ambitious  pretensions.  To  the 
veteran  politicians  of  Europe,  accustomed  to  regard  France 
as  the  first  military  power  of  the  time,  habituated  to  this 
conviction  by  its  splendid  victories  in  Italy,  dreading  its 
shrewd  diplomacy  and  experienced  statesmen,  it  appeared 
more  than  ordinarily  quixotic  and  absurd  for  a  young 
sovereign,  who  had  never  witnessed  a  siege,  and  never  seen 
a  sword  drawn  except  at  a  tournament,  to  undertake  the 
conquest  of  so  great  a  kingdom.  And,  beside  the  blot  on  the 
national  escutcheon,  the  late  failure  was  the  more  disastrous 
from  its  effect  on  the  minds  of  those  whom  Henry  wished  to 
conciliate,  and  whose  co-operation,  or  at  least  whose  tacit 
consent  was  requisite,  before  he  could  prosecute  his  cherished 

■  Hist,    xxvii.    p.    13,    ed.     1011.  Europe.    No  man  was  bettor  iuformod 

P  olydore  was  factor  for  Card.  Hadrian,  on  European  politics, 
who  managed  to  gain  for  a  time  the  '•'  I.  'MHii. 

confidence   ol'   al)    the   sovereigns   of  ^  I.  3555. 


22  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

design  with  any  tolerable  chance  of  success.  To  invade 
France  on  the  Flemish  frontier,  as  he  had  proposed,  it  was 
expedient  for  him  to  gain  the  good  will  of  the  Emperor  and 
his  grandson  Charles,  Prince  of  Castile.  The  toilsome 
negociations  by  which  he  endeavoured  to  fix  the  shambling, 
shuffling,  irresolute  Maximilian  to  some  definite  and  distinct 
arrangement  are  detailed  in  the  letters  of  Poyninges  and  his 
associates.^  Much,  however,  as  Maximilian  hankered  after 
English  crowns,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  he  placed  little  con- 
fidence in  the  warlike  genius  of  England  ;  he  had  no  expecta- 
tion that  she  would  succeed  in  the  struggle.  He  dallied  with 
France,  and  offered  but  a  feeble  resistance  to  its  fascinations.^ 
Whilst,  on  the  other  hand,  the  governors  of  the  Prince  of 
Castile,  the  betrothed  of  the  King's  own  sister,  made  no  secret 
of  their  little  esteem  for  the  English  arms,  they  were  at  no 
pains  to  dissemble  their  preference  for  its  rival,  and  looked 
with  studied  contempt  on  Henry's  preparations.  Had  any 
wavered  before,  the  failure  on  Guienne  was  decisive. 

If  England  is  to  right  itself  with  Europe,  and  wipe  out  the 
stain  of  its  recent  discomfiture,  needful  it  is  she  should  fall  to 
work  in  earnest.  War  was  not  the  wish  of  Fox  or  Wolsey. 
They  had  rather  opposed  it,  and  thrown  all  their  influence 
into  the  opposite  scale.  Now  the  directing  genius  of  the 
enterprize  was  not  Norfolk  or  Brandon,  but  Wolsey  himself ; 
^  and  his  vast  influence  with  the  King  dates  from  this  event. 
Though  holding  no  higher  rank  than  that  of  Almoner,  it  is 
clear  that  the  management  of  the  war,  in  all  its  multifarious 
details,  has  fallen  into  his  hands.  He  it  is  who  determines 
the  sums  of  money  needful  for  the  expedition,  the  line  of 
march,  the  number  and  arrangement  of  the  troops,  even  to 
the  fashion  of  their  armour  and  the  barding  of  their  horses. 
It  is  he  who  superintends  the  infinite  details  consequent  on 
the  shii^ment  of  a  large  army.  He  corresponds  with  Gonson 
and  Fox  about  the  victualling,^  and  is  busy  with  beer,  beef,  and 
biscuit,  transports,  foists,  and  empty  casks.^  He  puts  out  or 
puts  in  the  names  of  the  captains  and  masters  of  the  fleet, 
and  apportions  the  gunners  and  the  convoys.^  Ambassadors, 
admirals,  generals,  paymasters,  pursers,  secretaries,  men  of 
all  grades,  and  in  every  sort  of  employment,  crowd  about  him 
for  advice  and  information.  By  the  unconscious  homage  paid  to 

'  Commencing  at  I.  3196.  *  See  his  remarkable  memoranda, 

-  See  I.  3555.  I.  4311. 

'  I.  3946,  4056.  May  21,  1513.       *  See  I.  3977. 


1513.]  WOLSEY'S  MANAGEMENT.  23 

genius  in  times  of  difficulty,  he  stands  confessed  as  the  master 
and  guiding  spirit  of  the  age.  Well  may  Fox  say,  "  I  pray  God 
send  us  with  speed,  and  soon  deliver  you  out  of  your  out- 
rageous charge  and  labour ;  else  ye  shall  have  a  cold  stomach, 
little  sleep,  pale  visage,  and  a  thin  belly,  cum  pari  egestiojie.'"  ^ 
There  was  no  lack  of  energy  on  all  sides.  Men  felt  that 
the  credit  of  England  was  pawned  in  the  encounter.  But 
vigom-  and  energy  could  not  of  themselves  overcome  the  inert 
resistance  of  incapacity  and  inexperience.  To  bring  together 
a  large  army  from  every  part  of  England,  to  secure  unity  of 
action  among  officers  who  had  never  before  served  together, 
to  assemble  shipping  from  different  ports,  to  ascertain  the 
tonnage  and  sailing  capabilities  of  the  transports,  to  make  the 
necessary  provision  of  beef  and  bread  and  beer,  to  place  all  on 
board  without  confusion,  to  provide  against  minute  accidents 
proverbially  fatal  to  large  bodies,  demanded  an  amount  of 
forethought,  energy,  patience,  and  administrative  genius  not 
to  be  found  in  any  other  man  of  that  age.  There  was  no  war 
department,  and  no  traditions  of  office  to  fall  back  upon.  It 
is  clear  from  the  correspondence  of  the  time  that  though 
Wolsey  was  surrounded  by  willing  instruments,  they  had  to 
look  up  to  him  for  their  instructions.  He  had  seen  no  service ; 
he  had  never  so  much  as  handled  a  sword,  or  tested  the  merits 
of  a  falconet  or  a  culverin.  His  education  had  been  that  of  a 
churchman  ;  and  till  now  he  had  only  been  employed  in  a 
subordinate  cajjacity.  Since  the  memory  of  the  oldest 
Englishman,  no  enterprize  on  so  large  a  scale  had  ever  been 
undertaken  by  the  nation.  Not  one  in  all  that  numerous  host 
had  seen  much  of  foreign  service.  They  had  to  encounter  a 
great  and  powerful  nation,  full  of  veteran  soldiers,  accustomed 
to  conquest,  engaged  for  years  in  foreign  wars,  and  rich  in 
those  resources  which  can  alone  bring  war  to  a  successful 
termination.  Such  an  enterprize,  with  all  the  long  training 
and  subdivisions  of  modern  official  experience,  must  ajipear  in- 
credibly bold  ;  how  much  more  at  that  time,  when  the  untrained 
genius  of  one  churchman  had  to  compensate  for  official  defects 
and  delinquencies,  to  ride  triumphant  over  the  inefliciency  of 
officers,  the  absence  of  a  commissariat,  the  disorganization 
of  an  army  unaccustomed  to  discipline,  unused  to  command, 
brought  at  haphazard  from  the  plough,  and  never  mustered 
for  exercise  except  at  the  caprice  or  vanity  of  some  great 
landed  proprietor  or  some  reluctant  lord  of  the  county  *? 

'  I.  4103. 


24  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

To  modern  notions  the  motive  for  such  an  enterprize  will 
doubtless  appear  inadequate.  But  war  had  not  then  lost  all 
traces  of  its  chivalrous  aspect.  It  was  the  chosen  field  for  the 
display  of  personal  skill,  courage,  and  gallantry ; — a  tourna- 
ment on  a  grander  scale.  So  long  as  martial  exercises 
remained  in  vogue,  so  long  as  every  gentleman  was  trained  to 
feats  of  arms,  war  became  a  necessity ;  and  those  dangerous 
pastimes,  which  often  toppled  over  the  nice  distinctions  of 
game  and  earnest,  were  only  redeemed  from  childishness  by 
this  necessity.  War,  like  the  duelling  of  later  times,  stood 
not  on  adequate  motives  ;  or  found  them  adequate  when 
measured  by  the  spirit  of  the  age.  "  Let  nations,"  says  Lord 
Bacon,^  "that  pretend  to  greatness  have  this,  that  they  be 
sensible  of  wrongs,  and  that  they  sit  not  too  long  upon  a 
provocation."  And  in  that  age  nations  that  were  not  sensible 
to  wrong  and  ready  for  war,  with  and  almost  without  provoca- 
tion, must  have  forfeited  all  claims  to  distinction,  and 
abandoned  the  hope  of  security  as  well  as  of  greatness.  It 
was  the  race  in  which  all  started  for  the  prize,  who  felt  a 
drop  of  genuine  blood  in  their  veins ;  the  heat  of  exercise 
which  kept  heart  and  body  healthy,  when  no  other  employ- 
ment that  could  be  considered  noble,  no  other  chance  of 
distinction,  was  open  to  men. 

The  expedition  put  to  sea  in  March,  1513,  under  the 
command  of  Sir  Edward  Howard.  It  was  arranged  that  the 
King  should  follow  in  June  with  the  main  body.  Sir  Edward 
had  already  gained  reputation  by  his  conduct  in  the  late  war 
of  Guienne.  His  letters  detailing  the  movements  of  the  fleet 
will  be  read  with  interest.^  There  is  something  of  that  tone 
of  self-confidence  in  them  which  will  remind  the  reader  of 
Wolfe  and  Nelson ;  and  in  men  of  more  doubtful  courage 
would  be  deemed  vainglorious.  The  French  had  made  great 
preparations  to  keep  the  sea  and  intercept  the  passage  with  a 
fleet  of  fifty  sail.  The  English  navy  at  the  time  consisted  of 
twenty-four  ships,  of  which  the  total  tonnage  amounted  to 
8,460  tons.^  It  carried  2,880  seamen  and  4,650  soldiers.  The 
Admiral's  ship,  the  Mari/  Rose,  was  of  600  tons,  and  carried 
200  mariners.  His  subordinates  in  command  were  Sir  Edward 
Echyngham,  Sir  Henry  Shirborne,  Sir  William  Sidney,  Sir 
Thomas  Cheney,  all  equally  anxious  with  himself  to  win  the 
King's  favour  and  signalize  their  valour  against  the  French. 
On  the  25th  of  April  Sir  Edward  caught  sight  of  the  French 

>  Essay  xxix.       ^  I.  3820,  3857,  3877,  3903.       '  I.  3977. 


1513.]  FATE   OF   ADMIRAL  HOWARD.  25 

galleys  laid  up  in  shallow  water.  They  were  protected  by 
bulwarks  on  both  sides,  "  planted  so  thick  with  guns  and 
crossbows  that  the  quarrels  ^  and  the  gunstones  came  together 
as  thick  as  hailstones."  '^  He  at  once  resolved  to  board  them 
with  his  boats.  The  rest  must  be  told  in  the  words  of  Sir 
Edward  Echyngham,  who  was  present  at  the  engagement.^ 
"  The  admiral  boarded  the  galley  that  Pryer  John  was  in  "  (Prior 
John  was  an  English  corruption  of  the  name  of  Pregian,  the 
French  Admiral),  "and  Charran  the  Spaniard  with  him,  and 
sixteen  others.  By  advice  of  the  Admiral  and  Charran  they 
had  cast  anchor  [into  the  rails]  of  the  French  galley,  and 
fastened  the  cable  to  the  capstan,  that  if  any  of  the  galleys 
had  been  on  fire  they  might  have  veered  the  cable  and  fallen 
off ;  but  the  French  hewed  asunder  the  cable,  or  some  of  our 
mariners  let  it  slip,  and  so  they  left  this  [brave  man]  in  the 
hands  of  his  enemies."  In  the  melee,  at  ebb  of  the  tide,  no 
one  came  to  his  support.  "  There  was  a  mariner  wounded  in 
eighteen  places,  who  by  adventure  (by  mere  chance)  recovered 
unto  the  buoy  of  the  galley,  so  that  the  galley's  boat  took  him 
up.  He  said  he  saw  my  Lord  Admiral  thrust  against  the  rails 
of  the  galley  with  marris  pikes.  Charran's  boy  teUs  a  like 
tale;  for  when  his  master  and  the  Admiral  had  entered, 
Charran  sent  him  for  his  hand-gun,  which  before  he  could 
deliver,  the  one  galley  was  gone  off  from  the  other,  and  he 
saw  my  Lord  Admiral  waving  his  sword  and  crying  to  the 
galleys,  '  Come  aboard  again !  Come  aboard  again ! '  which 
when  my  Lord  saw  they  could  not,  he  took  his  whistle  from 
about  his  neck,  wrapped  it  together  and  threw  it  into  the 
sea."  On  making  inquiries  the  next  morning  they  could  learn 
no  more  from  the  French  Admiral  than  that,  "  one  leapt  into 
his  galley  with  a  gilt  target  on  his  arm,  whom  he  had  cast 
overboard  with  marris  pikes."  Such  was  the  end  of  Sir 
Edward  Howard,  whose  loss  was  universally  lamented  :  "  for 
there  was  never  a  nobleman  so  ill  lost  as  he  was,  that  was  of 
so  great  courage  and  had  so  many  virtues,  and  that  ruled  so 
great  an  army  so  well  as  he  did,  and  kept  so  great  order  and 
true  justice." 

It  was  a  costly  sacrifice ;  but  the  gallantry  of  the  action 
retrieved  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  the  reputation  of  England.' 
At  such  a  time,  when  unbounded  admiration  was  felt  for 
personal  bravery,  and  victory  depended  much  less  on  scientific 

'  Qwarre?8  or  gwarreaMa;  were  square  *  lb. 

iron  bolts  shot  from  crossbows.  ■*  Henry  took  to  lionrt  tlio  AdiniriirH 

*  I.  4005.  fall,  and  oxprosaed  bis  displcusuro  Uiat 


26  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY   YHI.  [A.D. 

combinations,  such  a  ''  a  dangerful  enterprize  "  was  fruitful  in 
momentous  consequences.  It  fastened  on  the  imagination  of 
both  nations.  From  this  man's  example  his  countrymen 
jumped  to  the  conviction  that  nothing  was  too  arduous,  and 
no  odds  on  the  side  of  an  enemy  justified  retreat.  From  this 
man's  daring  the  world  took  the  measure  of  English  courage 
generally.  The  French  dared  no  longer  dispute  the  possession 
of  the  narrow  seas.  The  news  was  received  with  feelings  of 
alarm  and  discontent  by  those  who  had  hitherto  disparaged 
the  prowess  of  England.  Its  importance  may  be  judged  by 
the  effect  it  had  on  those  who  were  meditating  treachery,  and 
seeking  an  opportunity  to  make  their  peace  with  France.  The 
victory  gained  over  the  French  by  sea,  on  St.  Mark's  day,  as 
Knight  informs  the  King,^  gave  no  satisfaction  to  his  father-in- 
law,  Ferdinand.  James  IV.,  then  plotting  an  invasion  of 
England,  condoles  with  Henry :  "  Surely  your  late  Admiral, 
'  quha  decessit  to  his  grete  honour,'  was  a  greater  loss  than 
winning  all  the  French  galleys  would  have  been  to  your 
advantage."  He  spoke  more  truth  than  he  intended.  But  it 
was  some  consolation  to  remind  his  brother-in-law  of  his  great 
loss  in  the  full  swing  of  his  triumph.  The  most  undeniable 
evidence  of  the  importance  of  the  victory  were  the  sedulous 
endeavours  taken  to  underrate  it. 

On  June  30,  1513,  Henry  took  shipping  and  arrived  at 
Calais  with  the  main  body.  The  vanguard  had  crossed  some 
days  before,  under  the  command  of  Charles  Brandon  Viscount 
Lisle,  better  known  afterwards  as  Duke  of  Suffolk.  The  pro- 
gress of  the  army  step  by  step  to  the  surrender  of  Tournay  on 
Sept.  24,  is  traced  by  Tayler  in  his  minute  and  faithful  Diary.^ 
The  news  and  correspondence  received  during  the  expedition, 
the  arrangements  for  the  army,  the  cost  of  preparation,  the 
"  moving  accidents  "  of  the  field,  are  here  accurately  detailed. 
The  main  body  under  the  King  marched  in  three  divisions : 
first  came  the  van-ward  with  the  chief  of  the  ordnance  ;  then 
the  middle-ward  with  the  king  himself;  last  the  rear-ward 
under  the  Lord  Chamberlain,^  the  Earl  of  Northumberland, 
and  others.*  The  King  was  preceded  by  the  Household,  to 
the  number  of  300,  mustered  under  the  Trinity  banner;  in 

he  had  been  so  badly  supported.     His  heard  of ,  and  the  most  manly  handled." 

brother   and  successor,  Lord  Thomas  I.  4020. 

Howard,  however,  exculpates  all  who  *  I.  4058.                      ^  I.  4284. 

were  concerned  in  the  action,  and  ex-  *  Charles  Somerset  Lord  Herbert, 

presses  his  opinion  that  "it  was  the  soon     afterwards     created     Earl     of 

most    dangerful    enterprize   he    ever  Worcester.                         *  I.  4306. 


1513.]  CAPTURE  OF  TOUENAY,  27 

advance  -^as  the  unhappy  Duke  of  Buckingham  with  his  400 
men.  His  banner  was  followed  by  Mr.  Almoner  (Wolsey) 
commanding  200,  the  Bishop  of  Durham  (Ruthal)  with  100, 
Fox,  the  Bishop  of  Winchester,  with  the  same  number.  Next 
came  the  King  with  his  banner  and  guard  of  600  men,  the 
priests  and  singers  of  the  chapel  to  the  number  of  115,  secre- 
taries, clerks,  sewers,  grooms  and  pages  of  the  chamber,  with 
Peter  Carmehanus^  his  lutanist,  whose  bad  taste  and  false 
quantities  furnished  endless  jokes  for  Erasmus.^  The  King 
decamped  from  Calais,  July  21,  arrived  before  Terouenne  on 
the  1st  of  August,  and  was  visited  by  the  Emperor  on  the 
12th.  The  experienced  eye  of  Maximilian  at  once  detected  a 
capital  blunder  in  the  king's  strategic  position,  of  which  his 
enemies,  however,  had  failed  to  avail  themselves.  In  fact,  not- 
withstanding the  disuse  of  war  and  the  impetuosity  of  the 
Enghshmen,  the  experience  and  superior  skill  of  the  French 
proved  of  small  service  to  them.  The  veteran  regiments  of 
Lewis,  still  remaining  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alps,  had  been 
shivered  into  fragments  at  the  terrible  battle  of  Novara.^  Sick 
at  heart  and  feeble  in  body,  Lewis  himself  had  driven  over  in  a 
carriage  from  Paris,  but  was  prevented  by  illness  from  taking 
part  in  the  action.  With  the  exception  of  La  Palice  and  the 
well-known  Chevalier  Bayard,  made  prisoner  at  Terouenne, 
we  miss  the  great  names  of  the  veterans  who  had  served  in 
the  campaigns  of  Italy. 

The  surrender  of  Terouenne  on  the  22nd  of  Aug.,  was 
followed  by  that  of  Tournay  on  Sept.  24.* 

During  the  King's  absence  in  France  James  IV.  of  Scotland 
had  seized  the  opportunity  of  executing  his  long  cherished 
project — the  invasion  of  England.  The  letters  of  this  King  to 
the  different  potentates  of  Europe^  have  an  indu-ect  interest 
in  connection  with  this  subject  which  may  justify  a  few  words 
of  comment.  Not  that  their  contents  are  always  very  im- 
portant. They  add  something,  though  not  much,  to  the 
scanty  information  we  have  of  the  state  of  Scotland  in  those 

'  I.  4314.  connts  of  his  life  in  the  camp. 

*  I.  2001.     I  do  not  suppose  that  =>  Juno  G. 

Wolsey  and  Fox  were  present  at  any  *  For  an  account  of  the  demolition 

engagement ;  but  that  they  attended  of  the  fortifications  of  Terouenne  see 

the  army   is    certain.     Taylor  states  I.  4431. 

that   on    one    occasion    Fox    suffered  *  A  selection  of  those  was  printed 

from  a  kick  of  his  mule.     We  know,  by  Ruddimann  in  1722  from  a  manu- 

from  the  amusing  letters  of  Erasmus,  scrii)t     in     tlio    Advocates'    Lil>rary, 

that   Ammonius  was  tlicro,  and   em-  Edinl)urgh.     Ahslracts  bolliof  I  hcao 

ployed  hiniHolf  in  sending  homo  to  his  and  of  others  still   unpriiited  will   bo 

witty     correspondent     ludicrous    ac-  found  in  the  Calendar.     Ed. 


28  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENEY    VIII.  [A.D. 

turbulent  times,  "With  the  exception  of  these  few  facts,  the 
history  is  nothing  more  than  the  turbulent  doings  of  an 
intractable  nobility,  who — 

"  laid  about  them  at  their  wills  and  died." 

By  means  not  very  easily  traced,  a  thin  sprinkling  of  the  new 
learning  had  been  introduced  into  Scotland.  Here  and  there, 
among  a  barbarous  and  unlettered  nobility,  hardly  able  to 
write  their  own  names,  might  be  found  a  scholar  w^hose 
command  of  the  Latin  tongue  would  not  have  disgraced 
Muretus.  James  IV.  was  one  of  these ;  and  his  Latin  letters, 
as  compared  with  the  general  Latin  letters  of  that  age,  are 
not  unworthy  of  Erasmus,  who  is  said  to  have  been  his 
master.  But  they  are  too  often  characterized  by  a  feeble 
elegance,  that  shrinks  in  dismay  from  the  rough  and  ready 
Latinity  of  earlier  times,  and  so  lose  in  force,  perspicuity,  and 
directness.  The  character  of  James  was  not  unlike  his  letters. 
That  he  had  some  reputation  for  learning  is  clear  from  the 
remarkable  letter  addressed  to  him  by  Polydore  Vergil,  who 
was  engaged  at  the  time  in  composing  his  history.^  A  better 
proof  may  be  found  in  the  interest  he  took  in  the  studies  of 
the  youthful  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews.^  But  with  these 
good  qualities  James  had  the  vices  of  his  family — a  great 
conceit  of  his  own  wisdom  and  statecraft ;  an  unshaken  belief 
in  his  own  powers  as  a  universal  peacemaker.  Without  the 
means  of  preserving  peace  and  dignity  at  home,  he  was  thrust 
forward  by  his  vanity  to  mediate  between  the  great  conflicting 
powers  of  Em-ope.  He  was  bearded  and  defied  in  the  iDrecincts 
of  his  palace,  not  merely  by  his  nobility  but  by  his  bishops  ; 
and  at  the  time  when  he  was  making  pompous  professions  of 
what  he  intended  to  do  to  secure  the  peace  and  salvation  of 
Christendom,  he  was  writing  letters  to  the  Pope  to  save  him 
from  the  insolent  encroachments  of  the  Archbishop  of  Glasgow. 
That  such  a  King,  though  not  without  some  amiable  qualities, 
should  be  untrue  to  his  word,  and  in  this  respect  most 
opposite  to  his  rival,  my  readers  will  have  expected.  Among 
all  the  documents  of  the  time  none  are  more  painful  than 
those  in  which  Dr.  West,  the  English  ambassador,  afterwards 
Bishop  of  Ely,  describes  his  various  interviews  with  James. 
A  mouth  before  the  expedition  to  Teroueune  he  had  been  sent 
by  Henry  into  Scotland  to  ascertain  the  intentions  of  the 
Scottish  King,  and  bring  him,  if  possible,  to  some  resolute 
1  1. 751. 

*  I.  379,  3618.    This  Archbishop  was  his  own  natural  son,  Alexander  Stuart. 


1513.]  THE  SCOTCH  INVASION.  29 

answer.  The  cool,  patient,  and  determined  bearing  of  the 
Englishman,  who  never  betrays  his  temper  or  the  contempt 
he  feels  for  the  swagger  of  James  and  his  repeated  prevarica- 
tions, the  ability  with  which  he  unravels  his  contradictions 
and  hunts  him  out  from  one  subterfuge  after  another,  the 
King  "  sore  moved  and  chafed,"  plunging  and  floundering 
from  one  false  statement  or  imprudent  admission  to  another, 
form  a  striking  but  not  agreeable  picture.^ 

He  was  bound  by  treaty  between  the  two  nations  not  to 
levy  war  against  England,  but  allow  their  mutual  disputes  to 
be  decided  by  arbitration.     James  had  no  intention  to  regard 
his  oath,  but  he  had  not  the  courage  to  announce  his  deter- 
mination to  break  it.     He  had  written  to  the  Pope  already  for 
a  dispensation ;  and  failing  this,  had  resolved  to  obey  his  own 
inchnation.     Such  was  the  state  of  hostility  between  the  two 
kingdoms,  that,  notwithstanding  the  ties  of  blood,  open  war 
between  the  two  Princes  could  never  have  been  considered 
unnatural  at  any  time.     But  James  contrived  to  make  his 
own   share   in  the   rupture   wear   a   look   of  meanness   and 
treachery.     When  the  King  was  away,  and  all  eyes  were  bent 
on   the   siege   of  Terouenne,  James   began  his   march  into 
England.     His  defiance,  sent  by  Boss  Herald,  reached  Henry 
in  the  field  before  Terouenne,  Aug.  11.     If  not  a  perfidious, 
it  was  an  unchivalrous  advantage.     It  told  badly  for  James  in 
the  estimation  of  his  contemporaries.     From  Henry  it  pro- 
voked no  other  reply  than  an  expression  of  his  disbelief  that 
James  would  disregard  the  solemn  obligation  of  an  oath ;  but 
if  such  were  his  intention  he  doubted  not  the  Scotch  King 
would  live  to  repent  it.^    No  change  was  made  in  his  arrange- 
ments.  The  only  person  who  appears  to  have  been  despatched 
to  meet  this  contingency  was  Euthal,  Bishop  of  Durham,^ 
who  returned  to  London,  and  immediately  put  himself  into 
communication   with   the  Lord  Treasurer  Surrey  appointed 
Lieutenant-General    of    the    North,    and    hastened    towards 
Norham  to  arrange  for  its  defence.     "You  are  not  so  busy 
with  war  in  Terouenne  as  I  am  encumbered  with  it  in  Eng- 
land," writes  Katharine  to  Wolsey  on  the  13th  of  August. 
They  are  all  here  very  glad  to  be  busy  with  the  Scots,  for  they 
take  it  for  a  pastime.     My  heart  is  very  good  to  it,  and  I  am 
horribly  busy  with  making  standards,  banners,  and  badges."* 

Could  James  have  foreseen  the  result  it  would  have  added 

•  I.  1920,  3128,  3129,  3811,  3838,  3882.  '  I.  P-  621. 

^  I.  4^88.  *   I-  4398. 


30  THE  REIGN   OF  HENRY   YIII.  [AD. 

to  the  bitterness  of  bis  deatb,  tbat  be  was  to  fall  by  tbe  bands 
of  a  woman.  For  tbere  is  no  doubt  tbat  Katbarine  berself 
was  tbe  soul  of  tbe  enterprize.  Sbe  quieted  uneasy  tbougbts 
of  Henry's  dangers  by  occupying  berself  in  warlike  prepara- 
tions. Tbe  story  of  ber  address  to  tbe  soldiers,  as  detailed  by 
Peter  Martyr,^  may  be  apocrypbal ;  not  so  tbe  evidences  of  ber 
activity,  as  fm'nisbed  by  official  documents.  But  tbe  rasbness 
of  James,  bis  impatience  to  take  bis  rival  at  disadvantage, 
and  strike  tbe  blow  before  Henry  could  return,  proved  bis 
worst  enemies.  Tbe  battle  of  Flodden  remains  a  lasting 
monument  of  bis  incapacity.  Of  tbe  correspondence  relating 
to  it,  tbe  letters  of  Rutbal  to  Wolsey,  lately  discovered,  are 
among  tbe  most  curious.^  Tbe  Bisbop  is  bewildered  between 
joy  and  grief,  between  wonder  at  tbe  great  victory  obtained 
and  greater  wonder,  if  possible,  tbat  tbere  sbould  bave  been 
sucb  a  number  of  goodly  men,  "so  well  fed  and  fat,"  left 
among  tbe  slain.  "  Tbe  Scotcb,"  as  be  tells  Wolsey,  "  bad  a 
"large  army  and  mucb  ordnance,  and  plenty  of  victuals."^ 
He  would  not  bave  believed  "  tbat  tbeir  beer  was  so  good,  bad 
it  not  been  tasted  and  viewed  by  our  folks,  to  tbeir  great 
refresbing."*  At  one  time  be  is  for  accumulating  bonours  on 
my  Lord  Treasurer,  wbo  must  be  a  Duke  at  least  for  bis 
victory.  "  And  if  ye  made  twenty  for  Lords  witb  tbeir  styles, 
and  tbe  residue  witb  '  Trusty  and  well-beloved,'  it  would  do 
very  mucb  good."  At  anotber  time  be  attributes  tbe  entire 
glory  of  tbe  day  to  "  tbe  banner  of  St.  Cutbbert.  Tbe  banner- 
men  won  great  bonor,  and  gained  tbe  King  of  Scots'  banner, 
wbicb  now  stands  beside  tbe  sbrine.  Tbe  King  fell  near  bis 
banner." — "  Tbe  victory  bas  been  tbe  most  bappy  tbat  can  be 
remembered.  All  believe  it  bas  been  wrougbt  by  tbe  inter- 
cession of  St.  Cutbbert,  wbo  never  suffered  injury  to  be  done 
to  bis  Cbm'cb  unrequited.  But  for  tbat  tbe  Scotcb  migbt  bave 
done  mucb  more  barm."  Eising  above  all  tbese  varied  ex- 
pressions of  triumpb  and  wonderment  is  beard  tbe  sound  of 
his  grief  for  tbe  destruction  of  bis  castle  of  Norbam  ;  "  wbicb 
news  toucbed  me  so  near  witb  inward  sorrow  tbat  I  bad  lever 
to  bave  been  out  of  tbe  world  tban  in  it."  However,  be 
'expresses   bis   trust  tbat   by  penance,   and   spending  on  it 

*  Ep.  527.  plied  to  the  English  army  of  the  North 
2  I.  4460,  sq.  on  this  occasion  was  of  abetter  quality 
^  See  I.  4460,  sq.  acd  higher  price  than    ordinary.     It 

*  Yet,  as  if  the  Scotch  had  been       cost   10s.    the   pipe,  the   usual  price 
excellent  judges  of  strong  beer,  as  no       being  7s.  6d. 

doubt  they  were  and  are,  the  beer  sup- 


1513.]  THE   DUKE   OF    ORLEANS.  31 

10,000  marks  the  next  four  years,  life  raay  still  be  made 
tolerable.  These  remarks  are  followed  by  expressions  of 
resignation  worthy  of  so  wealthy  a  i:)relate  :  "I  never  felt  the 
hand  of  God  so  sore  touching  me  as  in  this,  whereof  I  most 
humbly  thank  Him ;  and  after  the  inward  search  of  conscience, 
to  know  the  cause  of  the  provocation  of  God's  displeasure 
against  me,  I  shall  reform  it,  if  it  be  in  my  power,  and  regard 
Him  more  than  the  world  hereafter." 

On  the  capture  of  Tournay,  Maximilian,  now  thoroughly 
won  over  by  English  crowns  and  the  discomfiture  of  France, 
was  earnest  with  Henry  to  push  his  advantage  to  the  utter- 
most. Polydore  Vergil  is  willing  to  attribute  it  to  Henry's 
moderation,  that  he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  Emperor's 
proposal.  France  had  been  sufficiently  humbled  to  perceive 
its  error ;  enough  had  been  done  to  avenge  the  injuries  of  the 
Church.  Without  wishing  to  detract  from  the  praises  bestowed 
on  him  by  Polydore  for  acting  like  a  Christian  Prince,  we  may 
reasonably  believe  that  the  lateness  of  the  season,  the  difficulty 
of  keeping  such  an  army  on  foot,  and  the  delicate  state  of 
affairs  in  Scotland,  were  strong  motives  in  urging  Henry's 
return.  The  late  brilliant  victories  had  fully  sustained  the 
honour  of  England  ;  and  in  defeating  his  enemies  Henry  per- 
haps had  learned  to  respect  them. 

Among  the  prisoners  taken  at  the  Battle  of  Spurs  ^  was 
Louis  d' Orleans,  the  young  Duke  of  Longueville,  and  Marquis 
of  Eothelyn,  "  un  tres  honneste  jeune  prince,  whom  I  should 
pity,"  says  Philip  de  Bregilles,  writing  to  Margaret  of  Savoy, 
"  if  he  were  not  a  Frenchman."  The  young  Duke  was  sent  to 
London,  to  the  safe-keeping  of  Queen  Katharine,  much  to  her 
annoyance ;  for  she  could  find  no  one  fit  to  attend  upon  him 
except  my  Lord  Montjoy,  the  friend  of  Erasmus,  who  was 
then  going  over  to  Calais.  Therefore,  like  a  sensible  woman, 
much  too  busy  to  have  the  care  of  lively  French  noblemen, 
she  recommended  that  he  should  be  disposed  of  in  the  Tower.^ 
Young  as  the  Duke  was,  he  was  in  high  estimation  with 
Lewis  Xn.,  who  had  appointed  him  the  year  before  his  mis- 
fortune governor  of  Boulogne  and  the  whole  of  Normandy. 
,  The  tendency  in  England  at  the  time  to  admire  and  imitate 
French  fashions  and  French  manners  is  well  known.  The 
great  dramatist,  in  his  wonderful  play  of  Henry  VHL,  has 
given  prominence — not  more,  however,  than  is  warranted  by 

'  I.  4405.     The   Battle   of    Spurs       Bomye,  near  Terouenno,  on  August  18. 
was  fought  at  Gaincgaste,  or  ratlier  at  '  I.  4433. 


32  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

history — to  this  passion  in  the  EngHsh  aristocracy.  Then,  as 
on  subsequent  occasions,  French  captives  and  hostages  were 
courteously  received  and  caressed  by  their  English  masters. 
How  the  young  prisoner  spent  his  time  we  are  not  permitted 
to  learn  precisely,  from  want  of  the  necessary  documents,  at 
least  here  in  England — a  mortification  to  which  students  of 
English  history  are  continually  exposed.  He  was  evidently 
taken  into  favour  ;  contrived,  with  the  dexterity  of  a  French- 
man, to  make  himself  agreeable,  perhaps  to  Queen  Katharine 
herself,  certainly  to  the  King  and  to  Wolsey.  He  was  not 
slow  in  turning  these  advantages  to  the  interests  of  Lewis,  as 
will  be  seen  in  the  sequel. 

Henry  had  returned  to  England  in  November,  fully  re- 
solved, to   all   appearance,  to  continue  the  war,  and  make 
additional  preparations  in  the  ensuing  spring.     There  is  no 
reason  to   doubt  the  sincerity  of  his  intentions,    or   of  his 
resolution  to  continue  the  war  in  spite  of  the  insincerity  and 
defection  of  his  allies.^   At  its  commencement  he  could  scarcely 
have  reposed  much  faith  in  the  constancy  of  Ferdinand.     He 
had  heard  of  the  dissatisfaction  expressed  by  his  father-in- 
law  at  the  naval  advantages  gained  by  the  Howards  over  the 
French.     Ferdinand's  subsequent  abandonment  of  the  league 
to  which  he  had  sworn  a  few  months  before,^ — the  treacherous 
and  underhand  mission  of  his  minister  Quintana  to  form  an 
alliance  with  France,  when  the  conquest  of  that  country  by 
England  seemed  inevitable, — could  not  have  been  unknown  to 
Henry,  or  occasioned  him  much  surprise.     Peter  Martyr,  on 
the   information   of   Stile,^  represents    Henry   as    extremely 
indignant  at  Ferdinand's  conduct,  and  protesting  he  will  never 
trust  him  again  ;  but  this  may  be  no  more  than  Stile's  version 
of  the  remonstrance  which  Henry  thought  proper  to  address  to 
Ferdinand,  through  his  ambassador,  and  not  the  expression  of 
his  actual  feelings.     Externally  there  was  no  change  in  his 
resolutions  or  designs.     He  appeared  bent  upon  the  conquest 
of  France  as  much  as  ever.    His  ambassadors  were  instructed 
to   demand  leave  from  Maximilian  and  Charles  to  take  up 
troops  in  the  Low  Countries.*  They  were  ordered  to  remonstrate 
with  the  Emperor  for  his  vacillation,  and  insist  on  the  fulfil- 
ment of  his  engagements  against  France.    Yet  it  appears  from 

1  See  the  remarkable  letter  to  the  ^  I.     4794.      The     Emperor    had 

new  Pope,  Leo.  X.     I.  4502.  agreed,  through    his   daughter    Mar- 

*  He    had    actually   concluded    a  garet,  to  a  treaty  with  Henry,  to  carry 

treaty  with  Henry  for  invading  France  on  the  war  against  France,  Nov.  15, 

as  late  as  Oct.  17,  1513.  1513.     I.  4530. 

3  I.  4864. 


1514.]  TREACHERY   OF   FERDINAND.  33 

the  correspondence  at  this  time^  that  the  Kmg  and  his  ministers 
were  fully  aware  that  Maximilian  was  playing  a  double  game. 
Whilst  keeping  up  appearances  with  England,  he  was  sidling 
and  coquetting  with  France,  anxious  to  secure  the  best  terms 
from  the  highest  bidder. 

On  the  24th  of  Jan.,  1514,  the  Emperor  wrote  to  his 
daughter  Margaret  announcing  Quintana's  arrival  from  the 
court  of  Ferdinand,  and  his  proposal  for  an  accommodation 
with  France.^  Margaret  in  return  tried  hard  to  persuade  him 
that  he  could  not  in  honour  assent  to  the  offered  arrangement.^ 
She  warned  him  that  the  only  object  of  Ferdinand  was  to 
amuse  him.  No  man,  as  she  told  him  frankly,  ought  to  know 
better  than  he  how  little  dependence  was  to  be  placed  on 
French  promises.  Besides,  Ferdinand's  interest  and  his  own 
were  diametrically  opposed.  If  Henry,  she  said,  had  agreed 
to  an  accommodation  with  France  (as  Ferdinand  pretended, 
and  Maximilian  affected  to  believe),  he  would  have  communi- 
cated the  information  to  his  ally  ;  but  she  was  convinced 
there  was  no  truth  in  the  insinuation ;  and  if  a  hint  of  Quin- 
tana's negociation  transpired,  or  the  suspicions  of  the  King  of 
England  were  awakened,  it  would  put  thoughts  into  his  head 
he  never  would  otherwise  have  entertained.  The  Emperor 
must  consider  how  perilous  that  contingency  would  be,  for  if 
the  King  of  England  threw  off  his  allies,  and  expressed  a 
desu'e  for  an  accommodation  with  France,  his  terms  would  be 
accepted  with  open  arms.  He  needed  not  the  help  of  Ferdinand 
or  Maximilian  for  an  arrangement  with  Lewis,  who  would 
be  only  too  happy  to  receive  him  without  caring  for  his 
allies.  With  the  tact  of  a  woman  she  easily  perceived  that 
the  widowhood  of  Lewis  XII.,^  and  the  unsatisfactory  state 
of  the  marriage  settlement  between  Prince  Charles  and 
the  Princess  Mary  opened  the  way  for  a  union  between  the 
two  crowns,  of  which  France  would  only  be  too  glad  to  avail 
itself. 

"  Monseigneur,"  she  urges  some  days  after,  "there  is  great 
reason  to  fear  that  these  fair  offers  are  only  put  forward,  on 
the  part  of  France,  to  escape  the  storm  that  would  fall  upon 
it,  if  every  one  were  as  ready  to  do  his  duty  as  the  King  of 
England,  who  has  made  incredible  preparations  for  continuing 
the  war.  .  .  .    Ferdinand  may  desire  peace,  for  he  is  old  and 

'  I.  4G22,  4725,  4831.  Lott.  Max.  et  Mnrfj.,  ii.  p.  221. 

*  Lett.  Max.  ct  Marg.,  ii.  229.    The  *  ilia  Quocu  bad  died  Jau.  i). 
order  of  these  letters  is  incorrect. 

VOL.  I.  I> 


34  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

infirm ;  but  that  is  not  the  interest  of  Monsieur  (Prince 
Charles)  and  his  dominions.^  .  .  .  This  young  king,  be  well 
assured,  will  aid  you  with  his  person  and  his  purse,  without 
any  deceit  (like  France)  or  hypocrisy  (like  Ferdinand),  if  you 
give  him  no  occasion  to  act  otherwise  ;  car  je  vous  asseure, 
Monseigneur,  que  en  luy  n'a  nulle  faintise ;  par  quay  en  ce  que 
luy  touche,  Von  doit  aller  de  semhlable  maniere  et  ne  luy  rompre 
nulle  promese.'^ 

The  advice  was  as  prudent  as  it  was  honourable.  But  this 
was  not  the  only  occasion  on  which  Margaret  had  reason  to 
suspect  that  Maximilian  disclosed  to  her  only  half  his  inten- 
tions, and  asked  her  advice  when  he  had  formed  his  resolution 
already.  He  announced  to  her,  on  the  9th  of  Ai)ril,  that  the 
King  Catholic  and  himself  had  agreed  to  a  truce  for  a  year 
with  Lewis,  upon  an  assurance  from  Quintana  that  Henry 
would  make  no  objection.  Her  comment  is  very  significant : 
"  Monseigneur,  the  news  you  have  sent  me  is  very  important, 
and  very  much  opposed  to  my  judgment  (entendemeat).^  I 
know  not  how  the  King  of  England  will  accept  it,  considering 
the  great  preparations  he  has  made  for  war.  However, 
Monseigneur,  I  do  not  want  to  know  more  than  you  are  willing 
to  communicate.  I  doubt  not  you  have  acted  with  the  best 
intentions,  and  understand  these  affairs  much  better  than 
I  do." 

In  this  same  year,  and  at  the  time  when  this  correspond- 
ence was  going  on  between  father  and  daughter,  he  who  was 
the  chief  and  unconscious  subject  of  it  had  been  struck  down 
by  sickness.^  Peter  Martyr  tells  his  correspondent  Furtado, 
in  March  :  "  The  King  of  England  has  had  the  fever,  and  his 
physicians  were  afraid  it  would  turn  into  pustules  called  the 
small  pox  {variolce)  J"  ^  By  the  instructions  sent  to  Spinelly  ^ 
on  this  occasion,  it  is  stated  to  have  been  the  small  pox, 
apparently  less  dreaded  than  the  plague — the  universal  scourge 
and  terror  of  this  century.  Henry  had  escaped  all  danger  by 
the  end  of  February,  and  rose  from  his  bed  with  renewed 
resolutions  to  continue  his  conquests  in  France.  He  then 
learnt  for  the  first  time  the  full  extent  of  Ferdinand's  cunning 
and  insincerity.  By  a  series  of  secret  negociations,  for  which 
he  was  famous,  he  had  contrived  to  detach  the  Pope  and 
Maximilian  from  the  confederacy,  and  in  conjunction  with 
them  had  agreed  to  an   armistice  with   France   for   twelve 

1  Lett.  Max.  et  Marg.,  ii.  pp.  227,  228.  ^   Ibid.,  ii.  p.  245. 

'  I.  4726,  4727,  and  4845.         *   I.  4845.  ^  I.  4831. 


1514.]  TREACHERY   OP   FERDINAND.  35 

months.  The  dnpHcity  of  which  he  had  been  guilty  was 
increased,  if  jDossible,  by  the  meanness  of  his  excuses : — It 
was  his  duty  to  promote  peace  ;  he  could  not  prevail  upon  his 
conscience  to  be  a  party  any  longer  to  a  war  against  Christian 
princes,  to  which  he  had  hitherto  consented  much  against  his 
will.  He  had  never  liked  the  war ;  had  always  expected  that 
he  would  be  betrayed  by  the  English,  and  left  to  bear  the 
burthen  alone,  which  was  more  than  an  old  man  at  his  time 
of  life  ought  to  think  of.  Besides,  the  King  of  France  had 
begged  for  peace  ; — to  refuse  it  was  inhuman  ;  it  was  horrible. 
When  such  a  king  humbly  sought  reconciliation,  and  under 
such  circumstances,  he  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  refuse 
him,  especially  as  he  was  anxious  to  devote  the  few  days  he 
might  be  spared  to  expeditions,  not  against  the  friends  but 
the  enemies  of  the  Faith. 

When  he  framed  these  excuses  he  knew  full  well  that  no 
one  would  believe  them.  He  knew  that  they  would  not 
convince  any  one  of  the  honesty  of  his  j)roceedings,  or  impose 
upon  the  meanest  understanding.  If  they  served  any  j^urpose 
beyond  that  of  mere  diplomatic  conventionalism,  it  was  to 
trail  off  inquiry  from  the  true  cause,  which  was  not  so  much  as 
hinted  at.  It  was  the  policy  of  Ferdinand  to  keep  all  things, 
if  possible,  in  statu  quo ;  and  balance  against  each  other  the 
different  powers  of  Europe.  He  was  afraid  of  the  aggrandise- 
ment of  his  son-in-law ;  he  was  afraid  of  the  projected 
marriage  of  Prince  Charles  with  the  Princess  Mary,  lest  it 
should  lead  to  a  demand  of  Castile  by  the  former.  By  the 
skilful  arrangements  he  had  so  secretly  concluded  he  hoped 
that  he  had  effectively  prevented  the  further  progress  of  all 
parties,  and  he  trusted  that  out  of  gratitude  for  his  compliance 
the  King  of  France  would  shelter  him  from  the  vengeance  his 
treachery  had  deserved.  But,  like  most  cunning  men,  he  had 
overreached  himself. 

Henry  saw  all  his  hopes  reft  from  him  by  his  own  fatlier- 
in-law,  and  all  his  labours  dashed  to  the  ground.  His  indig- 
nation for  the  moment  knew  no  bounds.  He  reproached 
Ferdinand  for  his  ingratitude  and  deceit — reminded  him  that 
at  his  own  earnest  entreaty  he  had  entered  on  the  war,  had 
gone  to  vast  expense,  and  directed  the  war  in  person,  Jle 
broke  off  all  communications  with  Ferdinand,  and  swore  he 
would  never  trust  him  again.  Maximilian,  on  the  other 
hand,  conscious  of  his  treachery,  did  not  stay  to  weather 
the  storm,  but  withdrew,  like  a  coward,  from  the  king's  ro- 


36  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

proacbes,  and  allowed  the  whole  fury  of  them  to  fall  upon 
Margaret.^ 

A  few  weeks  after,  strange  rumours  had  got  into  circula- 
tion. Anne  of  Brittany,  Queen  of  Louis  XII.,  had  died  on 
Jan.  9,  1514,  "underly  lamented,"^  in  the  language  of  the 
day.  On  April  20,  Gattinara  writes  to  Margaret  that  it 
was  commonly  reported,  "the  old  gallant  would  marry  the 
young  girl,"^  The  report  was  probably  premature,  but  it  is 
certain  that  some  correspondence  had  been  going  on  between 
his  master  and  Henry  by  the  means  of  the  Duke  of  Longue- 
ville,  who  has  been  already  mentioned.  He  writes  to  Wolsey 
from  Canterbury  as  early  as  March  16,  stating  he  had 
received  a  packet  from  France  expressing  the  cordial  feelings 
of  his  Sovereign  towards  Henry.  The  matter  was  kept  a  pro- 
found secret.  Not  the  slightest  hint  of  it  was  conveyed  to  the 
English  ministers  or  the  ambassadors  at  the  different  courts, 
who,  like  the  rest  of  the  world,  were  kej)t  in  entire  ignorance 
of  the  negociation.  Whether  a  marriage  with  Henry's  sister 
Mary  formed  part  of  the  original  design  cannot  at  present  be 
ascertained.  She  was  not  more  than  seventeen  years  of  age, 
and  Lewis  was  fifty-two.  Contemporary  accounts  describe  her 
as  the  most  beautiful  woman  of  her  times,  though  somewhat 
under  size  for  a  Tudor.  "  This  last  Sunday  in  Lent,"  says  an 
unknown  correspondent  to  Margaret,^  "I  saw  the  Princess  Mary 
dressed  in  the  Milanese  fashion ;  and  I  think  never  man  saw 
a  more  beautiful  creature,  or  one  possessed  of  so  much  grace 
and  sweetness."  Gerard  de  Pleine,  writing  to  the  Archduchess, 
bears  similar  testimony  :  "I  would  not  write  to  you  about  the 
princess  until  I  had  seen  her  several  times.     I  assure  you 

'  No   one,  I    think,  can  read   the  gloryoes "  (Lett,  de   Max.  et   Marg., 

extraoi'dinary  letter  of  Maximilian  to  ii.  38).     The  idea  of  Maximilian  being 

his  daughter  Margaret,  in  which  he  worshipped  as  a   saint   by   Margaret 

professes  his  intention  of  becoming  a  must,   to   the  readers    of    this  corre- 

pope  and  a  saint,  and  resist  the  con-  spondence,  appear  infinitely  comical ! 

elusion  that  the  Emperor  was  flighty  Yet    the    old    Emperor   is    perfectly 

at  times.     One  expression — not  to  say  serious,    as    is    shown    by   his    other 

more  than  one — in   that   letter  is  so  letters, 
extraordinary,  that  it  is  hardly  possi-  ^  I.  4692. 

ble  to  suppose  it  could  have  emanated  '  "  On  dit  communement  que  le  dit 

from     a    sane    intellect.      He     tells  Eoy  d'Arragon  traicte  le  paix  d'entre 

Margaret  he  is  sending  the  Bishop  of  les  Roys  par  le  moyen  des  mariages, 

Gurce  to  Rome,  to  have  himself  made  que  entendez  assez,  et  la  bon  vieillard 

coadjutor  to  the  Pope,  and  succeed  to  imdt  avoir  la  jeune  garce,  pour  essayer 

the  Papacy.    He  intends  to  be  sainted  s'il  pourra  encoires  avoir  ung  fils;  mais 

after  his  death  ;  and  then  he  proceeds  j'entends  qu'il  est  bien  debile."    Lett. 

in  this  extraordinary  strain: — "et  il  de  Louis  XII.  iv.  300.     These  corre- 

vous  sera  de  necessite  que,  apres  ma  spondents  of  Margaret  were  not  always 

mort,    vous   seres    constraint    de    me  very  refined  in  their  language, 
adorer,    dont    je    me    trouvere    bieu  *  April,  1514. 


15U.]  MARY  AND   PEINCE   CHARLES.  37 

that  she  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  young  women  in  the 
world.  I  think  I  never  saw  a  more  charming  creature.  She 
is  very  graceful.  Her  deportment  in  dancing  and  in  conver- 
sation is  as  pleasing  as  you  could  desire.  There  is  nothing 
gloomy  or  melancholy  about  her.  I  am  certain  if  you  had 
seen  her  you  would  never  rest  until  you  had  her  over.  I 
assure  you  she  has  been  well  educated.  It  is  certain,  from 
everything  I  hear,  that  she  is  much  attached  to  Monsieur 
(Prince  Charles)  ;  of  whom  she  has  a  very  bad  picture.  And 
never  a  day  passes  that  she  does  not  express  a  wish  to  see 
him  '  plus  de  dix  fois,  comme  Ton  m'a  aflirme.'  I  had 
imagined  that  she  would  have  been  very  tall ;  but  she  is  of 
middling  height,  and,  as  I  think,  a  much  better  match  in  age 
and  person  for  the  prince,  than  I  had  heard  or  could  have 
believed  before  I  saw  her."  ^ 

By  the  terms  of  the  original  compact  Prince  Charles  was 
bound  to  consummate  the  marriage  in  the  May  of  this  year, 
when  he  had  turned  fourteen.  But  his  governor  Maximilian, 
now  completely  under  the  influence  of  Ferdinand,  would  come 
to  no  definite  arrangement,  and  invented  various  excuses  to 
avoid  a  decisive  answer.^  Margaret  did  all  that  she  could  to 
fence  off  the  evil  day ;  and  wrote  to  her  father  in  agony,  as 
one  pretext  gave  way  after  another.^  The  prince  was  too 
young,  or  he  was  too  ill,  or  he  was  not  in  the  way.  She  was 
feebly  suj)ported  by  the  Emperor,  who  was  disingenuous  and 
vacillating.  Her  efforts  were  thwarted  in  every  way  by  the 
Prince's  Council,  who  hated  her  influence,  and  feared  their 
authority  would  be  undermined  by  the  alliance  with  England. 
They  were,  moreover,  under  the  influence  of  France.^  Peter 
Martyr  says,  in  a  letter  dated  June  8,  1514  :  ^ — "  The  sister  of 
the  King  of  England  was  betrothed  to  Prince  Charles  on  con- 
dition that  he  should  marry  her  when  he  had  passed  the  age 
of  fourteen.  The  king  is  urgent  to  have  the  marriage  com- 
pleted, as  the  Prince  was  of  the  age  required  on  the  24th 
of  Feb.  last.  But  Maximilian  and  Ferdinand  require  its 
postponement,  as  the  prince  is  naturally  of  a  feeble  constitu- 
tion." The  excuse  was  not  perhaps  entirely  without  founda- 
tion. The  feebleness,  both  physical  and  mental,  of  his 
mother,   cast   its  shadow  on  the  earlier  and  later  years  of 

■  Juno  30.  editor  has  most  strangely  perverted 

*  April  28,  1514.  their  arraTigcment. 

'  Her   letters   on   this    snbject    to  *  Knijriit,  May  2,  10,  lull. 

Maximilian  will  be  found  in  tlic  Lett.  ^  1.  5152. 

de  Max.  et  Marg.,  ii.  254 and  117.   The 


38  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

Charles  V.  He  was  a  sickly  boy,  of  a  sedate  and  melancholy 
disposition,  grave  and  business-like  beyond  his  years.  Peter 
Martyr,  in  one  of  his  letters,^  endeavouring  to  impress  his 
correspondent  with  a  favourable  notion  of  the  Prince,  then  in 
his  thirteenth  year,  dwells  much  upon  the  gravity  of  Charles. 
Even  then  he  was  a  solemn  censor  of  the  manners  of  his 
attendants,  and  never  failed  to  administer  a  severe  rebuke  if 
they  had  been  guilty  of  any  excesses  over  night.  In  fact,  if 
he  had  one  overmastering  quality  it  was  that  of  gravity  ; — a 
gravity  that  was  never  pierced  by  a  single  ray  of  passion  or 
generous  enthusiasm.  The  romantic  affection  of  Mary,  the 
appeals  of  Luther,  the  destruction  of  Eome  fresh  from  the 
hands  of  Piaphael  and  Michael  Angelo,  the  fears  of  Katharine, 
and  the  curses  of  Spain,  fell  like  water  on  that  staid  and 
decorous  nature,  and  left  no  mark.  At  fifteen  he  was  his  own 
prime  minister,  and  got  out  of  bed  at  midnight  to  answer  the 
despatches  of  his  ambassadors.  From  his  earliest  years  there 
was  no  spirit  of  boyish  intemperance  in  Charles ;  no  excesses 
to  be  corrected,  no  frivolity  to  be  restrained.  In  active  sports 
he  took  little  or  no  delight ;  so  that  Margaret,  writing  on  one 
occasion  to  Maximilian,  thought  it  a  grand  piece  of  news  to 
announce  that  the  prince  had  been  out  hunting.^  The  utmost 
excess  of  which  Charles  is  recorded  to  have  been  guilty  in  his 
youth,  was  that  of  dancing  himself  into  an  illness  at  his 
sister's  marriage.  In  a  chivalrous  age,  and  with  two  such 
rivals  as  Henry  VIII.  and  Francis  I.,  he  was  never  betrayed 
into  an  unconscious  fit  of  romance  or  generosity.  No  good 
saying,  no  act  of  forgetfulness,  no  imj)ropriety,  so  far  as  I  can 
remember,  is  recorded  of  him.  He  was  universally  solemn, 
decorous,  and  insipid  ;  indifferent  to  the  feelings  of  others, 
and  never  forgetful  of  his  own.  Sordid  as  Maximilian  in  his 
money  dealings,  he  was  without  Maximilian's  carelessness, 
irresolution,  and  nonchalance.  That  preciseness  which  after- 
wards found  scope  in  regulating  clocks,  manifested  itself  even 
now.  It  presided  over  the  amusements  of  the  boy  and  pre- 
scribed the  affections  of  the  man.  One  of  his  love  letters  to 
Mary  is  preserved,^  ^Titten  probably  to  dictation ;  but  it  is  so 
dull  and  decorous,  it  might  as  well  have  been  his  own  compo- 
sition. Love  he  felt  not,  and  he  made  no  effort  to  prevent 
the  rupture.     The  story  of  his  regret  in  after  life  is  a  mere 

*  Let.  515.  cha.sse ;  aultrement  on  pourra  pens^  qui 

^  "  Nous    fumes    bien    jonyeulx,"  fust   hastart." — Lett.  Max.   at   Marg., 

returns  the  old  Emperor,  "que  nostre  i.  211. 

filz  Charles  prenne  tant  de  ple'sir  a  la  ^  I.  4606. 


1514.]  MARY   AND   LEWIS  XII.  39 

invention.  Who  can  wonder,  therefore,  that  a  respectable 
Scotch  clerg3'man  of  the  last  age,  on  the  look-out  for  a  hero, 
should  have  thought  he  had  found  one  in  Charles  V.  The 
mistake  is  precisely  one  into  which  he  was  likely  to  fall — into 
which  Princess  Mary  fell  with  her  had  picture. 

Early  in  June,^  if  not  before,  Lewis  sent  to  demand  the 
hand  of  Maiy.  He  was  ably  seconded  in  his  negociations  by 
Longueville.  There  was  not  much  to  choose  between  a  sickly, 
melancholy  boy  of  fourteen,  and  a  valetudinarian  of  fifty-two. 
What  solicitations  were  used  to  obtain  her  consent  we  know 
not ;  perhaps  Gerard  de  Pleine  has  exaggerated  her  attach- 
ment ;  perhaps,  in  that  age,  female  scruples  and  female 
delicacy  were  not  much  respected.  The  love  affairs  of  the 
Tiidors  never  ran  in  a  straight  or  smooth  channel.  We  learn 
from  her  subsequent  letters,  when  she  was  married  to  Suffolk, 
that  her  reluctance,  whatever  it  might  be,  was  overcome  by 
the  assurance,  that  if  she  would  comx^l}"  with  her  brother's 
wishes  in  this  instance,  on  the  next  occasion  of  the  kind  she 
should  be  at  liberty  to  do  as  she  pleased ; — a  promise  of  which 
she  afterwards  availed  herself.  She  was  induced  openly  to 
renounce  her  contract  with  Charles  on  the  SOtli  of  July,^  at 
the  royal  manor  of  Wanstead,  in  the  presence  of  Brandon  and 
others, — and  in  August  to  make  a  public  declaration  of  her 
engagement  to  Lewis,^  and  appoint  the  Earl  of  Worcester  as 
her  proxy .^  The  whole  course  of  her  wooing,  her  love  letters, 
the  number  of  her  dresses,  her  attendants,  her  reception  at 
Paris,  her  coronation  and  life  at  the  French  court,  may  be 
read  in  the  State  j)apers  of  the  period.^ 

She  was  conducted  across  the  water  with  a  splendid 
retinue,  and  met  Lewis  at  Abbeville  in  the  first  week  of 
October.  The  description  given  by  Peter  Martyr  of  his 
appearance  as  he  sate  on  a  great  Spanish  war-horse  covered 
with  magnificent  trappings,  giving  unmistakable  indications 
of  premature  senility,  with  moist  lips  and  slouching  gait,  we 
may  charitably  trust,  is  somewhat  exaggerated.  But  the 
contrast  was  the  more  remarkable  when  Lewis  took  her  by 

'  I.    5164.      See    also    the    Com-  it   is   Mary,   and   not   Anne    Ikilcyn, 

mission,  July  29.  who  was  Jille  d'honncur  to  W:irf,'arot 

2  I.  5282.  of  Savoy  and  the  subject  ol"  that  lady's 

»  I.  5322.  letter  to  Sir  Thomas  Boloyn,  cited  by 

*  I.  5347.  M.  Le  Glay  in  his  able  edition  of  (lie 

*  I.,  p.  848,  sq.  I  take  this  oppor-  Lett,  do  Max.,  etc.,  ii.  p.  4t;i.  Tliis 
tnnity  of  correcting  a  common  error.  Icitter  has  never  attracted  the  atteii- 
It  was  not  Anne,  but  Mary  IJoleyn,  tion  of  English  liislorian.'<,  Hlrang<>lv 
her  elder  sister,  who  attended  the  enough.  See  especially  the  lettors  ot 
Princess  into  France ;    and  no  doubt  Worcester,  Oct  3. 


40 


THE  EEIGN   OF  HENRY  VIII. 


[A.D. 


the  hand  in  all  the  freshness  of  youth  and  beauty, — beautiful 
(as  Peter  Martyr  says)  without  the  adventitious  aids  of  art, 
and  with  her  native  roses  on  her  cheek.  (Epist.  542.)  They 
were  detained  at  Abbeville  some  weeks,  as  Lewis  was  suffering 
from  the  gout.  The  marriage  ceremony  had  no  sooner  been 
concluded  than  all  her  English  servants  were  dismissed. 
Mary  does  not  scruple  to  ascribe  this  measure  to  the  Duke 
of  Norfolk.  "I  marvel  much,"  she  writes  to  Henry,^  "that 
my  Lord  of  Norfolk  would  at  alh times  so  lightly  grant  every- 
thing at  their  requests  here.  I  am  well  assured  that  when  ye 
know  the  truth  of  everything,  as'  my  mother  Guldeford  can 
show  you,  ye  would  little  have  thought  I  should  have  been 
thus  intreated.  Would  God  my  Lord  of  York  (Wolsey)  had 
come  with  me  in  the  room  of  my  Lord  of  Norfolk ;  for  then  I 
am  sure  I  should  have  been  left  much  more  at  my  heart's  ease 
than  I  am  now."^ 


'  Oct.  12.  See  also  lier  letters  to 
Wolsey  of  the  same  date. 

^  Her  appeal  to  Wolsey  was  not 
witliont  effect,  as  will  be  seen  from 
the  following  letter  addressed  by  him 
to  Lewis,  copied  from  the  French 
archives.  For  this  interesting  docu- 
ment I  am  indebted  to  the  Rev.  Joseph 
Stevenson. 

"  Sire,  le  plus  treshumblement  que 
faire  je  puis  a  votre  bonne  grace  me 
recommande. 

"  Sire,  pour  ce  qu'il  vous  a  plu  de 
votre  grace  me  advertir  par  voz  lettres, 
datees  a  Beauvais  le  xxvj.  jour  du  moys 
precedent,  que  je  vous  ay  fait  singullier 
plaisir  de  ouvertement  et  privement 
vous  escriprede  ce  que  jevous  escripviz 
auparavant,  me  pryant  contynuer  et 
faire  le  semblable,  et  tout  ainsi  que  je 
feroye,  si  j'estoye  de  votre  estroit  and 
prive  conseil : 

"  A  ceste  cause,  Sire,  je  vous  veuil 
bien  advertir  d'une  chose.  S'est  que 
la  ou  le  Roy,  mon  Souverain  Seigneur 
et  Maistre,  votre  bon  frere,  avoit  or- 
donne  pour  la  vraye,  parfaicte  and 
entiere  confidence  qu'il  avoit  en 
Madame  de  Guylford,  quelle  seroit 
avec  la  Royne,  sa  seur,  votre  com- 
paigne,  pour  les  bonnes  meurs  et 
experience  qu'il  congnoissoit  qu'elle 
avoit  et  bien  parlant  le  langaige ;  affin 
ausi  que  la  Royne,  sa  dite  seur,  peust 
estre  menlx  conseillee  et  advertye  par 
elle,  comme  elle  se  devoit  en  tons 
endroitz  regir  et  conduire  envers  vous; 
considerant  oultre  que  la  Royne,  sa 
dite  bonne  seur,  est  une  jeune  dame, 


et  que  quant  elle  se  trouveroit  pardela, 
non  ayant  le  langaige  parfaictement, 
ne  aucune  congnoissance  a  nuUes  des 
dames  depardela,  a  qui  elle  pourroit 
discouvrir  telles  passions  que  les  fem- 
mes  out,  et  que  si  elle  n'avoit  quelque 
une  de  sa   congnoissance  a  qui   elle 
pourroit  dire   et    declarer    familliere- 
ment  son  cueur,  quelle  se  trouveroit 
qiiasy  comme  desolee,  dont  elle  pour- 
roit prendre  aucun  regret  et  desplaisir, 
que   par  aventure   seroit  occasion  de 
prendre  quelque  malladye,  et  son  corps 
en  estre  de  pis,  que  Dieu  ne  veuille  : 
Et  si   tel  accident  advenoit,  je  croy, 
Sire,  que  vous  en  serez  le  plus  dollenc 
et  desplaisent.     Et  pour  ce,  Sire,  que 
j'ay  sceu  et  entendu  que  la  dite  Dame 
de   Guilford    est    a    Boullongue,   pour 
faire    son   retour    parde9a,    et    quelle 
estoit   des   tout  dischargee,  doubtant 
que  le   Roy,  mon  dit  maistre,  s'il  en 
avoit  la  congnoissance,  qu'il  trouveroit 
la  chose  aucunement  estrange,  je  me 
suys    enhard[y]    descripre    a   la    dite 
dame  de  scjoourner  encores  audit  lieu 
de  Boullongue,  jusques  ad  ce  que  je 
vous  eusse  sur  ce  escript  ma  simple 
et    petite    oppinion.     Ce  que  je   faiz. 
Sire,  a  present.     Et  me  semble.  Sire, 
soubz  correction,  que   la   devez  pour 
quelque   espace  de   temps  retenir  au 
service  de  la  Royne  votre  dite  com- 
paigne  et  non  sy  soubitement  la  dis- 
charger, veu  et  considere  que  le  Roy, 
votre  dit  bon  frere,  la  tiree  hors  d'un 
lieu  solitaire;  la  ou  elle  estoit  deliberee 
de  non  jamais  en  partir  pour  aller  au 
service   de   la  Royne,  sa  dite   bonne 


1514]  ALLIANCE   OF   ENGLAND   AND   FRANCE.  41 

The  truth  of  the  compLaiiit  is  substantiated  in  some 
measure  by  a  letter  from  Suffolk  to  Wolsey;^  who  directly 
attributes  the  dismissal  of  the  Queen's  servants  to  Norfolk  and 
his  sou,  "  because  they  were  of  Wolsey's  choosing,  and  not 
theirs  ;  "  and  advises  him  to  have  it  redressed. 

The  alliance  between  the  two  crowns  was  not  popular  in 
England  or  the  Netherlands  ;  at  least  the  disappointed  corre- 
spondents of  Margaret  endeavoured  to  make  it  appear  so,  and 
magnified  to  the  utmost  the  murmurs  of  the  discontented. 
But,  if  we  look  back  to  the  last  three  years,  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  a  vast  advance  has  been  made  in  the  political  position  of 
England.  From  a  second-rate  kingdom,  under  the  dictation 
of  Ferdinand,  it  had  at  once  risen  to  the  highest  rank  in  the 
confederacy  of  nations.  Its  power  was  not  the  less  imposing 
or  dreaded,  because  in  the  moment  of  victory  it  had  acted 
with  moderation. 

The  marriage  dazzled  the  eyes  of  Europe.  France  was 
in  one  continual  dream  of  delight.  English  ambassadors 
swarmed  about  the  French  court,  which  they  had  never 
visited  before,  to  congratulate  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  to 
feast  their  eyes  ou  the  pageants  or  take  part  in  the  tourna- 
ments. But  in  the  midst  of  all  this  mirth,  a  conversation 
was  going  on  between  Dorset,  Worcester,  and  Eobertet,  the 
purj)ort  of  which  can  scarcely  be  gathered  from  the  dark  and 

seur ;  et  je  ne  faiz  doubte  nulle,  Sire,  temps,  et  vous  n'estez  content  do  sou 

que  quant  vous  I'aurez  bien  congneue,  demeure  la,  il  vous  plaira,  Sire,  m'en 

que  la  trouverez  dame  saige,  honorable,  advertir,  et  je    feray  tant   envers    le 

et   secrete,  toute  desirante  et   preste  Eoy,  inon  dit  maistre,  qu'il  y  pourvcyra 

d'ensnyvir     et    acomplyr    en     toutes  de  sorte  que  vous  serez  content.    Mais 

choses  a  elle  possible  votre  vouUente  il  me  semble.  Sire,  que  si  toust  vous  ne 

et  vous  plaisirs,  en  tout  ce  que  vous  la  devez   descharger,   ains   entretenir 

luy  ordonncrez  et  commenderez,  quel-  pour  la  consollacion  de  la  Koyne,  votre 

que  rapport  que  vous  ait  este,  ou  pourra  dite  compaigne,  et  jusques  ad  ce  quelle 

estre    fait   au  contraire  ;    comme  j'ay  eit  mcilleuro  exjjcrience  et  congnois- 

escript  plus  a  plain  a  monseigneur  lo  sance  pardola.     Vous  supplyant,  Sire, 

vous  chambrelan,  pour  le  vous  deolairer  me  signiffier  et  advertir  dc  votre  boii 

de  ma  part.  plaisir  et  intenciou  sur  co,  attiu  que 

"  Au  surplus,  Sire,  je  vous  supplye  j'en  puisse  advertir  la  dite  dame,  et 

que  votre  bon  plaisir  soit  de  me  par-  quelle  congnoisse  comme  clle  se  devra 

donncr  et  tenir  pour  excuse,  si  je  mo  conduyre  en  cost  endroyt.     Priant  au 

suystoutenhardy d'ainsy promptement  dciiiourant  notre  Seigneur  qu'il  vous 

et  entierement  vous  advertir  de  costo  doint,  Sire,  bonne  vie  et  longiie. 

matiere,  et  considerer  que  jo  le  faiz  "Au  manoir  de  Eltliam,  lo   x.xiij. 

a  bonne intcncion  pour  letressingullier  jour  d'Octobre. 

desir  que  j'ay  de  nourrir  et  entretenir  "  Votre  tres  humble  ofc  tres 

le  Roy,  votre  dit  bon  frere  et  vous,  en  obeyssant  servitem', 

amour,    amytie     et     bien    vueillance  "  T.  Eiioit. 

ensemble.  Dorso.      "  A   la  bonne   grace 

"  Et   pour   faire  fin  a    ma   lettre,  du  Roy." 
Sire,  si  vous  advisez  appres  et  quelle 

aura  este  pardola  quelquo  cspaco  do  '  No.  5512. 


42  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

oracular  bints  dropped  in  the  correspondence  of  these  ministers. 
It  is  so  silent  and  so  dark,  that  their  fellow-ambassadors  in 
the  same  com't  have  no  notion  of  it,  and  Ferdinand  for  once 
was  thrown  off  his  guard.  Suffolk  writes  to  Henry,  on  the 
3rd  of  November,  that  his  letters  were  opened.  "He  had 
sent  letters  which  be  would  not  should  have  been  seen,  which 
the  King  knows  well."  After  a  variety  of  manoeuvres  to  gain 
the  ear  of  Lewis  unseen,  Suffolk  is  sent  for  by  Lewis  to  come 
and  visit  his  two  daughters.  In  the  midst  of  this  innocent 
occupation,  seeing  the  King  at  leisure,  "  and  the  chamber  well 
rid,"  be  took  out  his  secret  letter,  and  told  the  French  king 
be  bad  a  private  message  for  him  from  bis  master.  Not  a 
word  is  dropped  by  himself  or  Dorset,  of  the  exact  nature  of 
this  commission.  "We  have  had,"  says  Dorset,  "divers 
communications  with  the  (French)  Privy  Council.  "We  leave 
(omit)  to  write  because  the  charge  is  my  Lord  of  Suffolk's. 
But,  as  far  as  I  can  perceive,  all  things  go  well,  and  to  our 
master's  honor."  ^ 

What  was  the  purport  of  that  communication  we  learn 
only  from  the  reply  of  Lewis  himself,^ — not  from  the 
English,  but  the  French  archives.  After  thanking  the  King 
for  sending  so  important  a  personage  as  the  Duke,  Lewis 
professes  his  desire  to  deal  frankly  with  his  new  brother-in- 
law.  With  the  proposition^  made  him  by  the  English  ambas- 
sadors, that  he  should  assist  Henry  in  expelling  Ferdinand 
from  Navarre,  as  a  punishment  for  having  violated  his  engage- 
ments, Lewis  expresses  his  willingness  to  comply,  and  to  raise 
an  army  for  that  purpose.  To  the  second  proposition,  which 
was  far  more  startling,  he  makes  a  more  cautious  answer.  It 
seems  that  Henry  bad  insisted  that  as  the  kingdom  of  Castile 
descended  in  equal  portions  to  the  sisters  Katharine  and  Joan,* 
and  be  bad  married  one  of  the  sisters,  he  had  a  right  to 
Castile,  and  as  be  was  resolved  to  assert  his  claim  he  was 
anxious  to  know  what  aid  Lewis  would  lend  him  for  that 
purpose.  Lewis  excuses  himself  from  giving  any  advice  on 
this  head,  because  he  was  not  acquainted  with  the  laws  and 
customs  of  Spain,  but  if  Henry  would  set  an  enterprize  on 
foot  for  recovering  the  whole  or  part  of  Castile,  Lewis  would 
take  bis  part  without  further  inquiry ;   "  mais  la  et  quant  le 

'  I.  5606.  choly  state  of  this  unfortunate  lady 

*  I.  5637.  will  be  found  in  the  letters  of  John 
'  Knight  was    the  author  of   this       Stile  and  Peter  Martyr.     Both  kuew 

proposition.     See  his  letter  to  Wolsey.       her  well,  and  had  no  reason  for  palli- 

*  The  best  account  of  the  melan-       ating  the  unwelcome  truth. 


loll.]  HENRY'S   DESIGNS   AGAINST   FERDINAND.  43 

Eoy  d'Angleterre  troiivera  par  son  conseil  qii'il  peult  et  doit 
faire  I'entreprise  mencionnee  es  dits  articles,  tant  pour  expeller 
le  dit  Eoy  d'Arragon  du  dit  royaume  de  Navarre,  que  aussi 
pour  recouvrer  le  dit  royaume  de  Castille,  en  tout  ou  partie, 
le  Eoy  lors,  et  en  ce  cas,  sans  soy  vouloir  informer  autrement 
des  dites  querelles,  est  delibere  et  resolu  de  pourter  le  querelle 
du  dit  Eoy  d'Angleterre."  This  important  concession,  how- 
ever, is  coupled  with  a  reservation  that  in  the  mean  time, 
without  disclosing  their  intentions,  both  parties  should  hear 
what  the  ambassadors  of  Arragon  had  to  say,  and  communicate 
the  result  to  each  other. 

The  death  of  Lewis,  shortly  after,  put  an  end  to  this 
extraordinary  project,  of  which  no  distinct  record  remains 
except  in  this  letter  of  the  French  archives. 


44  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENEY  VIII.  [A.D. 


CHAPTEE   11. 

INTERNAL    CONDITION    OF   ENGLAND. 

During  this  time  the  domestic  events  of  the  reign  are  com- 
paratively barren  and  unimportant.  For  two  years  or  more 
after  the  King's  accession,  the  court  and  the  people  were  too 
much  occupied  with  pleasure  and  pageantry  to  pay  attention 
to  more  serious  matters ;  a  little  later  war  and  foreign  politics 
threw  domestic  affairs  into  the  background.  The  chroniclers 
have  been  unjustly  condemned  for  filling  their  pages  with 
accounts  of  masques  and  revels,  as  if  their  attention  had  been 
engrossed  by  these  to  the  exclusion  of  graver  subjects.  But 
at  home,  during  the  first  two  years,  there  was  little  else  to 
chronicle.  It  was  one  unbroken  round  of  amusements — revels 
at  Christmas — masques  and  archery  at  May-day- — tilting,  and 
running  at  the  ring  the  rest  of  the  year.  King,  ministers,  and 
people  were  occupied  with  no  higher  thoughts  than  such 
fantastic  sports.  The  chroniclers  are  justified  also  by  a 
curious  letter  of  Queen  Katharine  to  her  father  Ferdinand. 
"These  kingdoms  of  your  highness,"  she  tells  him  with  delicate 
flattery,^  "  are  in  great  tranquillity,  and  show  great  affection  to 
my  lord  and  myself.  The  time  is  spent  in  continual  feasting." 
Empson  and  Dudley^  are  borne  to  premature  graves  with  little 
notice ;  the  unfortunate  Edmund  De  la  Pole  with  less.  The 
masques  were  not  a  whit  less  brilliant,  or  the  maskers  less 
lively.  Who  could  expect  that  tragic  and  "hearse-like  airs" 
should  succeed  such  careless  easy  strains  ?  Or  that  broken 
hearts  and  forms  of  blood  should  change  places  with  all  that 
mirth  and  laughter  ?  These  chroniclers  see  more  into  the 
texture  of  life  than  their  philosoj)hical  critics.  The  reign  of 
Henry  VIII.   was    "  a   dark   and  melancholy   work  upon   a 

*  I.  368.  the  crime  of  extortion,  but    for  con- 

^  I  must  refer  the  reader  to  a  very  structive    treason    in   attempting    to 

curious  paper  (I.  1212)  containing  the  escape    from    the    Tower ;    a    crime 

last  will   and   confession  of   this  un-  which   long  disgraced   English  juris- 

fortunate   minister.      It    seems    from  prudence. 

that  paper  that  he  did  not  suffer  for 


1509-14.]  HIS   EAELY  MAEEIED   LIFE.  45 

lightsome  ground :  "  and  therefore,  in  the  language   of  the 
dramatist,  "  sad,  high,  and  working." 

For  the  xDresent,  whatever  scruples  might  afterwards  arise, 
there  was  nothing  to  interfere  with  Henry's  affection  for 
Katharine.  Of  his  marriage  he  writes  in  the  highest  spirits 
to  Margaret  of  Savo}'- ;  ^  he  assures  Ferdinand  his  love  for 
Katharine  is  such  that  if  he  were  still  free,  he  would  choose 
her  in  preference  to  all  others.'^  In  virtues  befitting  a  Queen 
and  a  woman  no  one  will  deny  her  pre-eminence.  The  small 
disparity  of  age  was  rather  in  her  favour  at  so  early  a  period 
of  their  married  life.  She  was  a  Spaniard  born,  of  the  bluest 
blood,  of  the  noblest  descent,  of  the  proudest  court  in  Europe. 
Ferdinand  had  not  thought  that  in  bestowing  her  on  an  English 
prince  he  was  receiving  a  favour.  What  was  Henry  VII,  in 
the  eyes  of  Europe  when  he  ascended  the  throne '?  Or  what 
were  the  chances  that  he  could  hold  it  ?  It  was  he,  not  they, 
who  received  the  favour,  and  touched  his  bonnet  when  the  names 
of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were  mentioned  in  his  presence.^ 
Accounts  vary  as  to  Katharine's  personal  appearance  (as  of 
what  woman  will  they  not,  according  to  the  taste  or  humour 
of  the  spectator?).  "She  is  rather  ugly  than  otherwise," 
says  Nicolo  Sagudino,  secretary  to  the  ambassador  Gius- 
tinian.^  "  She  is  not  handsome,"  says  the  ambassador  him- 
self, "  but  has  a  very  beautiful  complexion."^  "  She  is  of  a 
lively  and  gracious  disposition;  quite  the  opposite  of  the 
Queen  her  sister  (Joan)  in  complexion  and  manner,"  says 
Gerard  de  Pleine.^  She  danced  well,  was  a  good  musician  ; 
was  better  educated,  wrote  and  read  much  better,  and  com- 
posed in  English  more  correctly  than  half  the  ladies  of  her 
court.  Above  all,  her  love  and  admiration  for  Henry  were 
unbounded.  There  was  not  such  a  paragon  in  the  world.  He 
was  her  hero,  her  paladin.  "  With  his  health  and  life,"  she 
writes  with  affectionate  solicitude  to  Wolsey,  "nothing  can 
come  amiss  to  him ;  without  them  I  can  see  no  manner  good 
thing  shall  fall  after  it."  '^  She  is  persuaded  that  the  victory 
at  Flodden  and  the  capture  of  Terouenne  "  is  all  owing  to  the 
King's  piety." ^     Her  greatest  comfort  in  his  absence  is  to 

1  I.  224.  further  on  (see  p.  117),  did  the  same 

2  I.  3:58.  in  deference  to  Henry  VIII.,  in  con- 
'  This  curious  piece  of  diplomatic       versation    with    the    English   ambaa- 

courtcsy,  which    was    fir.st    revealed  sador. — Ed. 

by    Mr.    Bergenroth's    researches    at  *  Despatches,  i.  81. 

Simancas,     was    not     practised     by  '  Despatches,  ii.  313. 

Henry    VII.    only,    and    perhaps    did  »  I.  5203  (p.  835). 

not  mean  so  much  as  is  here  implied.  '  I.  4398  (Aug.  13,  1513). 

The  Emperor  Maximilian,  as  noticed  '  1.  4417. 


46 


THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI. 


[A.D. 


hear  from  Wolsey  of  the  King's  health,  and  all  the  news  of 
his  proceedings.^  After  the  battle  of  Flodden  she  writes  to 
Henry  that  she  sends  him  "  the  piece  of  the  King  of  Scots' 
coat  which  John  Glyn  now  bringeth.  In  this  your  grace 
shall  see  how  I  can  keep  my  promise,  sending  you  for  your 
banners  a  King's  coat."  She  tells  him  she  is  praying  for  his 
return,  and  with  characteristic  devoutness  is  setting  out  on  a 
pilgrimage  to  our  Lady  at  Walsingham  for  that  purpose.^ 

One  great  grief  had  befallen  her  which  had  redoubled  her 
anxiety  and  devotion.^  To  the  inexpressible  delight  of  the 
King  and  the  nation,  a  prince  had  been  born  Jan.  1,  1511. 
A  household  and  officers  were  appointed  for  the  royal  babe.'* 
His  Serjeant  at  arms  with  12fZ.  a  day,  and  his  clerk  of  the 
signet  with  an  annuity  of  20L,  are  immortalized  in  Privy  Seals 
and  Treasury  Warrants.  Even  the  name  of  his  nurse,  Eliza- 
beth Pointes,  is  recorded,  and  that  of  the  yeoman  of  his  beds 
and  wardrobe.  Preparations  were  made  to  celebrate  the 
joyous  event  with  all  the  fantastic  splendour  and  magnificence 
characteristic  of  the  times.  In  the  spirit  of  the  days  of 
romance,  the  King,  in  the  garb  of  a  knight,  held  the  barriers 
with  three  others  against  all  comers.  Articles  of  the  challenge 
were  put  forth  in  conformity  with  the  strict  rules  of  ancient 
chivalry.^  Coeur  loyal,  the  title  assumed  by  Henry  himself, 
Valliaunt  desyr,  the  appellation  of  Sir  Edmund  Nevill,  Bon 
valoir,  of  the  Earl  of  Devonshire,  and  Joyaux  penser,  of  Sir 
Thomas  Knevet,  were  to  recall  to  the  world  once  more  the 
golden  days  of  good  report  and  knightly  deeds.  But  the 
bright  vision  faded  almost  as  soon  as  the  pageant  itself.  On 
Feb.  22  this  desire  of  all  eyes  died ;  and  the  following 
entry,  signed  by  the  King  and  his  council,  is  found  among  the 
wages  of  minstrels,  lords  of  misrule,  and  salaries  of  ambas- 
sadors, grim  and  emotionless  as  death  itself : — 


»  I.  4432. 

2  I.  4451. 

'  Peter  Martyr  mentions  another. 
He  states  that  Henry,  in  his  indig- 
nation at  the  treachery  of  Ferdinand, 
had  bitterly  reproached  her  with  her 
father's  infidelity,  and  vented  his  anger 
against  her  in  no  measured  terms. 
Her  grief  brought  on  premature  child- 
birth. (See  I.  5718.)  We  learn  from 
Holinshed  and  Stow  that  the  Queen 
was  delivered  of  a  Prince  in  Novem- 
ber, 1514,  which  died  soon  after.  No 
notice  of  this  event  is  found  among 
any   of    the   official    documents ;    no 


rejoicings  at  its  birth,  as  on  a  previous 
occasion,  and  no  notice  of  its  burial. 
Probably  it  was  still-born.  But  the 
imputation  of  Peter  Martyr  is  devoid 
of  all  probability.  How  could  he, 
living  at  that  time  at  Valladolid,  come 
to  the  knowledge  of  this  story  ?  More 
probably  it  was  a  malicious  report, 
with  no  other  foundation  than  the  ill 
humour  of  the  Spanish  court,  never 
favoui'able  to  Henry,  and  now  more 
than  ever  exasperated  at  his  alliance 
with  France. 

«  I.  1495,  1513,  1862. 

*  I.  1491. 


1509-14] 


DEATH   OF  HIS   INFANT   SON. 


47 


By  the  King. 
Henry  VIII. 

Trusty  and  welbeloved,  we  greet  you  well.  And  forasmuch  as  our 
subject  John  Tomson  of  London,  waxchandler,  hath  delivered  in  tapers 
of  wax  of  3  lb.  the  piece  the  weight  of  432  lb. ,  to  burn  about  the  hearse  of 
the  late  Prince,  our  dearest  son,  within  our  monastery  of  Westminster, 
over  and  above  the  charges  of  the  said  hearse,  whicli  before  this  hath 
been  accompted  for  and  paid  to  the  said  Tomeson  by  Sir  Andrew  Winde- 
sore,  keeper  of  our  Great  Wardrobe  :  We  therefore  will  and  command 
you  forthwith  and  without  delay,  upon  the  sight  of  these  our  letters,  to 
content  and  j)ay  unto  the  said  John  Tomson  or  his  assignee  for  the  said 
432  lb.  of  wax  after  the  rate  of  31.  I4s.  8d.  the  100,  amounting  in  the 
whole  to  the  sum  of  sixteen  pounds  sterlings.  And  these  our  letters  shall 
be  your  sufficient  warrant  and  discharge  in  that  behalf.  Given  under 
our  signet  at  our  castle  of  Windsor,  the  13th  day  of  July,  the  tliird  year 
of  our  reign. 

T.  Surrey— Ri.  Wynton— C.  Somerset — Harry  Marny— T.  Englefild. 

To  our  trusty  and  welbeloved   servant,  John 
Heron,  treasurer  of  our  Chamber.^ 

With  these  exceptions,  there  was  nothing  in  those  early 
3'ears  to  cloud  the  brilliancy  of  the  reign.  The  conspiracies 
that  had  troubled  Henry  VII.  so  often,  dared  not  raise  their 
front  against  Henry  VIII.  The  Simnels  and  Warbecks  had 
disappeared  altogether.  The  only  miserable  shadow  of  a 
pretender,  Eichard  De  la  Pole,^  was  a  fugitive  in   France, 

'  There  appear  in  the  same  accounts, 
about  the  same  time,  various  entries 
of  donations  to  religious  orders ;  among 
others,  the  following,  probably  rela- 
ting to  the  same  event : — 
30  June  loll.  Henry  VIII.  to  John 
Hekon. 

To    pay    58s.    for    "one 

hundredth    of     pure     wax," 

given  in  alms  to  the  Friars 

Observants,  Greenwich. 

Greenwich,  30  June,  3  Hen. 

VIII. 
Among  the  warrants  to  the 
Treasurer  of  the  Chamber  is  an  order 
dated  Feb.  25,  1512,  to  pay  Wm. 
Lambert,  "  yeoman  of  the  beds  with 
oar  late  dearest  son,  the  Prince  de- 
ceased," 41.  lis.  3d.,  for  his  year's 
wages  endinj;  Candlemas  last,  and  for 
expense  of  boat-hire  from  Richmond 
to  Baynard's  Castle  for  conveying  the 
wardrobe  there,  7s.  25  Feb.,  3  Hen. 
VIII.;  and  another  dated  Dec.  12, 
1512,  to  pay  "  Wm.  Lambert,  late 
yeoman  of  the  wardrobe  of  beds  with 
our  dearest  son  the  Prince  deceased," 
his  wages  for  "keeping  the  same  stuff" 
from  the  Feast  of  Purification  last  to 
the  Feast  of  Circumcision,  "by  the 
space  of  326  da^-s,  after  the  rate  of 
3d.  for  every  day:"  total,  41.  18d. 
Westm.,  12  Dec,  4  Hen.  Vlll. 


^  Of  the  execution  of  Edmund  De 
la  Pole  in  1513,  no  notice  is  found  in 
contemporary  documents  except  in 
the  letter  of  Peter  Martyr  (No.  4324), 
where  it  is  attributed  to  his  treason- 
able correspondence  with  his  brother. 
The  Wardrobe  Warrants  contain  the 
following  order : — 

"  By  the  King. 
"  Henry  R. 

"  We  will  and  charge  yon,  that 
unto  our  trusty  and  welbeloved  knight 
for  our  body.  Sir  Richard  Cholmeley, 
deputy  lieutenant  of  our  Tower  of 
London,  ye  deliver  or  cause  to  be 
delivered  for  the  use  of  Edmund  De 
la  Pole  and  William  his  brother  these 
parcels  following:  first,  for  either  of 
them  two  gowns,  the  one  of  russet 
furred  with  fox,  and  the  other  of 
tawney  furred  with  black  bogye,  price 
of  every  yard  5s. ;  for  either  of  tliem 
two  doublets,  the  one  of  black  satin, 
the  other  of  black  velvet ;  for  either 
of  them  throe  pair  of  hoson  and  three 
shirts  ;  for  eitlier  of  them  three  ])air 
of  sheets  ;  for  either  of  them  a  black 
bonnet,  three  pair  of  shoes  or  slipporn, 
throe  dozen  silk  points  and  a  ribbon 
girdle.  And  those  our  letters  shall  bo 
unto  you  sutticiont  warrant  and  dis- 
charge at  all  times  hereafter.  Given 
under   our   signet    at   our   uiaiiur  of 


J 


48  THE  EEIGN  OF   HENRY  YIII.  [A.D. 

dependent  on  a  precarious  subsistence,  and  surrounded  by 
spies  who  transmitted  notice  of  his  movements  to  England. 
The  nation  at  large  was  content  and  flourishing.  It  is 
astonishing  to  observe  the  rapidity  with  which  it  had  settled 
down  to  order  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.  after  so  many  years 
of  civil  dissension.  It  would  lead  us  to  infer  that  those  wars 
were  the  wars  of  a  class,  and  not  of  the  nation  ;  and  that  the 
effects  of  them  have  been  greatly  exaggerated.  With  the 
single  exception  of  Cade's  rebellion,^  they  had  nothing  in 
common  with  the  revolutions  of  later  or  earlier  times.  They 
were  not  wars  against  classes,  against  forms  of  government, 
against  the  order  or  the  institutions  of  the  nation.  It  was  the 
rivalry  of  two  aristocratic  factions  struggling  for  superiority, 
neither  of  them  hoping  or  desiring,  whichever  obtained  the 
upper  hand,  to  introduce  momentous  changes  in  the  State  or 
its  administration.  The  main  body  of  the  people  took  little 
interest  in  the  struggle  ;  in  the  towns  at  least  there  was  no 
intermission  of  employment.  The  war  passed  over  the  nation, 
ruffling  the  surface,  toppling  down  high  cliffs  here  and  there, 
washing  away  ancient  landmarks,  attracting  the  imagination 
of  the  spectator  by  the  mightiness  of  its  waves,  and  the  noise 
of  its  thunders  ;  but  the  great  body  below  the  surface  remained 
unmoved.  No  famines,  no  plagues,  consequent  on  the  in- 
termittence  of  labour  caused  by  civil  war,  are  recorded  ;  even 
the  prices  of  land  and  provisions  scarcely  varied  more  than 
they  have  been  known  to  do  in  times  of  profoundest  peace. 

But  the  indirect  and  silent  operation  of  these  conflicts  was 
much  more  remarkable.  It  reft  into  fragments  the  con- 
federated ranks  of  a  powerful  territorial  aristocracy,  which 
had  hitherto  bid  defiance  to  the  King,  however  popular,  how- 
ever energetic.  Henceforth  the  position  of  the  Sovereign  in 
the  time  of  the  Tudors,  in  relation  to  all  classes  of  the  people, 
became  very  different  from  what  it  had  been :  the  royal 
supremacy  was  no  longer  a  theory,  but  a  fact.  Another  class 
had  sprung  up  on  the  decay  of  the  ancient  nobility.  The 
great  towns  had  enjoyed  uninterrupted  tranquillity,  and  even 
flourished,  under  the  storm  that  was  scourging  the  aristocracy 
and  the  rural  districts.  Their  population  had  increased  by 
numbers  whom  fear  or  the  horrors  of  war  had  induced  to  find 

Greenwich,  the  23rd  day  of  July,  the  '  Which   is   not  a   real   exception 

first  year  of  oar  reign.  after  all,  for  Shakespeare  was  certainly 

"  To  oiu-  trusty  and  welbeloved  wrong  in  attributing  to  Cade's  move. 

Sir  Andrew  Wyndysor,  knight,  ment  the  democratic  character  of  Wat 

keeper  of  our  GreatWai-drobe."  Tyler's. — Ed, 


1509-14.]       KESULTS   OF   THE   WARS   OF   THE   ROSES.  49 

shelter  behind  stone  walls.  The  diminution  of  agricultural 
labourers  converted  into  soldiers  by  the  folly  of  their  lords, 
had  turned  corn-lands  into  pasture,  requiring  less  skill,  less 
capital,  and  less  labour.  Consequently,  a  new  class  of  men, 
at  the  commencement  of  this  century,  were  occupying  the 
soil  and  had  invested  their  money  in  land ;  and  a  complaint 
is  made  to  the  Parliament  of  Henry  VIII.  that  "  in  conse- 
quence of  the  occupation  of  land  by  merchants,  clothiers,  and 
others,"^  housekeeping  had  decayed,  and  tillage  had  been 
turned  into  pasture.  The  petition  assumes  as  self-evident 
that  picturesque  form  of  the  happiness  of  ancient  days,  not 
uncommon  in  such  complaints.  But  this  tendency  to  recall 
the  past,  and  invest  it  with  brilliant  but  imaginary  colours, 
was  characteristic  of  the  reign.  It  was  the  same  with  knight 
and  peasant.  The  bright  sunset  of  a  departing  age,  from 
which  men  were  rapidly  and  unconsciously  drifting,  still 
fascinated  many  minds,  and  filled  them  with  wistfulness  and 
regrets.  When  every  man  was  contented,  say  the  petitioners, 
with  one  farm,  there  was  plenty  of  everything,  as  "every 
acre  of  land  ploughed  bore  the  straw  and  chaff  besides  the 
corn,  able,  with  the  help  of  the  shack  in  the  stubble,  to  feed 
as  many  great  beasts  as  the  land  would  keep  laid  in  leyes ; 
and  by  the  winnowing  of  corn  there  were  kept  at  every  barn- 
door pigs  and  poultry,  to  the  comfort  of  the  people  in  every 
shire.  Now  in  a  town  of  twenty  or  thirty  dwellings  the 
houses  are  decayed,  the  people  gone,  the  churches  in  ruins, 
and  in  many  parishes  nothing  more  than  a  neatherd  or  a 
shepherd  or  a  warner  is  to  be  seen." 

But  allowing  that  this  account  may  be  exaggerated,  it 
could  scarcely  be  entirely  without  foundation.  The  efforts  of 
the  Legislature  to  regulate  wages  and  punish  vagabondism  are 
a  proof  that  many  irregularities  did  exist.  Licences  to  beg, 
and  the  continuous  efforts  to  repress  unlicensed  begging, 
indicate  the  prevalence  of  beggary.  In  fact,  while  wages 
remained  high  in  the  towns,  and  skilled  labour  commanded 
good  prices,  the  drying  up  of  the  ordinary  employments  and 
means  of  food  in  the  agricultural  districts  led  probably  to  the 
wretchedness  described  by  Sir  Thomas  More  in  his  Utopia, 
and  the  severe  measures  required  to  suppress  it.  If  Latimer 
thought  that  two  acres  of  hemp,  sown  up  and  down  England, 
"  were  all  too  little  to  hang  the  thieves  in  it,"  the  prevalence  of 
thieving  must  have  been  notorious.    And  these  statements  are 

'  I.  5727. 
VOL.  I.  K 


\) 


50 


THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI. 


[A.D. 


countenanced  by  the  frequent  complaints  of  robbers  made  by 
Erasmus  when  resident  in  England,  and  still  more  by  a  letter 
of  Peter  Martyr,  dated  May  19,  1513  :  ^  "  John  Stile  told  him 
that  a  band  of  robbers  had  attacked  the  King's  wagons  carry- 
ing money  to  the  wars,  and  afterwards  fled  to  sanctuary.  But 
the  King  caught  80  of  them  before  they  could  escape,  and 
hanged  them  all." 

To  the  religious  foundations,  which  had  sprung  up  in 
such  numbers  in  every  shire  of  England,  and  engrossed  the 
revenues  of  the  secular  and  parochial  clergy,  the  civil  dis- 
turbances of  the  last  century  were  specially  disastrous.  Dis- 
cipline had  relaxed  and  could  not  easily  be  enforced.  The 
springs  of  charity  which  had  supported  the  smaller  houses 
ceased  to  flow ;  the  estates  of  the  greater  houses,  by  the  loss 
of  their  tenantry,  were  neglected  and  became  unproductive. 
Debt,  with  no  chance  of  redemption,  weighed  heavily  upon 
all.  An  extreme  measure  was  required  to  avoid  the  scandal 
and  misery  caused  by  this  state  of  things ;  and  Wolsey,  by  an 
Act  not  altogether  unlike  what  we  have  seen  in  our  own  days 
applied  to  Ireland,^  found  it  necessary  to  suppress  and  sell  the 
smaller  and  more  encumbered  houses.  The  larger,  which 
still  remained,  were  necessarily  modified  by  the  circumstances 
of  the  times,  and  their  religious  character  impaired.  They 
admitted  a  number  of  lay  inmates,  or  at  least  kept  open  house 
for  persons  not  connected  with  their  foundations.  In  some 
cases  the  abbots  were  bound  to  give  endowments  to  scholars 
of  the  King's  nomination,  or  provide  them  with  competent 
benefices  ;  ^  pensions  and  corrodies  were  granted  under  the 
Privy  Seal  to  yeoman  ushers  of  the  wardrobe  and  the 
chamber,  to  clerks  of  the  kitchen,  sewers,  secretaries,  and 
gentlemen  of  the  chapel  royal,*  and  these  were  strictly  en- 
forced, whatever  might  be  the  other  incumbrances  of  the 
house.   We  find  Ammonius,  in  a  letter  to  Erasmus,  discussing 


1  I.  4096. 

^  It  is  important  to  note  tliat  this 
was  written  in  the  year  1862.  The 
author,  of  course,  alludes  to  the  En- 
cumbered Estates  Act  (1848),  the 
memory  of  which,  and  of  all  the  good 
it  did  while  in  operation,  has  since 
been  almost  effaced  by  causes  of  which, 
doubtless,  the  less  said  here  the 
better. — Ed. 

»  I.  1235,  1360.  One  of  the  most 
interesting  of  these  cases  is  that  of  a 
pension  jjaid  by  the  prior  of  St.  Frides- 
wide's,  Oxford,  to  Reginald  Pole,  then 


a  student  in  the  Uuiversity  of  Oxford, 
afterwards  Cardinal.  No.  4190.  Amongr 
the  warrants  to  the  treasurer  of  the 
Chamber  is  an  entry  dated  Feb.  17, 
1511-12,  commanding  him  to  pay  "for 
the  behoof  of  our  scholar,  Raynold 
Pole,  son  unto  the  said  Lady  Margaret 
Pole,"  121.  assigned  to  him  for  his  study 
and  learning  for  this  year  ensuing, 
"  like  as  we  be  minded  to  give  unto 
him  yearly  the  same  exhibition  here- 
after/' Westm.,  Feb.  17,  3  Hen.  VIII. 
*  I.  49,  60,  106,  615,  920,  1072, 
1081,  1595. 


1509-14.]  DECLINE   OF   MONASTICISM.  51 

the  question  where  the  latter  is  to  lodge  when  he  comes  to 
London.  The  Augustinians  have  only  unfurnished  apart- 
ments. He  will  not  recommend  the  monastery  where  he  is 
lodging,  as  they  keep  a  poor  table.  Another  is  not  to  be 
thought  of ;  it  is  too  mean,  and  the  rooms  are  not  com- 
fortable.^ Expressions  strangely  at  variance  with  modern 
notions  of  monastic  seclusion  and  religious  asceticism. 

But,  in  fact,  respect  for  monastic  life  had  in  a  great 
measure  passed  away  with  the  necessity  that  created  it.  The 
writings  and  example  of  Erasmus  himself,  a  monk  leading  a 
secular  life,  caressed  by  bishops  and  all  the  eminent  men  of 
his  time,  were  not  of  a  nature  to  inspire  respect  for  monastic 
institutions.  In  England,  no  minister,  no  ecclesiastic,  no 
scholar,  of  any  eminence,  had  of  late  years  sprung  from  the 
religious  orders.  Their  influence  over  public  opinion,  at  least 
in  the  southern  counties  of  England,  had  been  entirely 
eclipsed,  and  tliey  had  done  nothing  to  recover  it.  That  in 
so  large  a  body  of  men,  so  widely  dispersed,  seated  for  so 
many  centuries  in  the  richest  and  fairest  estates  of  England, 
for  which  they  were  mainly  indebted  to  their  own  skill,  per- 
severance, and  industry,  discreditable  members  were  to  be 
found  (and  what  literary  chiffonnier,  raking  in  the  scandalous 
annals  of  any  profession,  cannot  find  filth  and  corruption  ?)  is 
likely  enough  ;  but  that  the  corruption  was  either  so  black  or  so 
general  as  party  spirit  would  have  us  believe,  is  contrary  to  all 
analogy,  and  is  unsupported  by  imj)artial  and  contemporary 
evidence.  The  general  complaint  against  them  is  that  of 
ignorance  and  bigotry ;  and — what  an  Englishman  would  now 
consider  as  the  root  of  all  evil — the  absence  of  any  ostensible 
employment.     Of  this,  however,  more  will  be  said  hereafter. 

The  laxity  thus  introduced  by  the  events  of  the  last 
century,  and  the  occupation  of  bishops  in  political  affairs, 
allowed  a  freedom  in  religious  practice  and  discussion  to 
spring  up  unchecked  among  the  middle  classes.  Except  a 
man  with  more  zeal  than  discretion  chose  to  obtrude  his 
heresies  in  the  face  of  his  diocesan,  he  had  little  chance  of 
incurring  the  penalty  of  martyrdom.  Of  course  then,  as  now, 
there  were  exceptions.  The  canons  were  enforced  with  dif- 
ferent degrees  of  severity  in  different  dioceses.  A  prelate 
might  di^,tinguish  himself  by  unreasonable  severity ; — he 
might  enforce  the  law  against  a  length  of  beard, ^  or  laxity  of 
opinions,     liut,  in  general,  the  indifference  or  contempt  with 

'  I.  1982.  *  The  cauonists  are  very  strict  upon  clerical  buarda. 


52  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

which  the  bishops  regarded  departures  from  established 
doctrines,  especially  when  that  dissent  was  not  attended  with 
scholarship,  was  more  galling  in  many  cases  than  when  they 
lamiched  against  it  their  ecclesiastical  fulminations.  At  a 
later  period,  when  Lutheranism  grew  into  notice  by  its  daring 
defiance  of  ecclesiastical  authority,  the  bishops  changed  their 
measures,  and  became  more  strict  and  vigilant.  The  King's 
own  book  against  Luther  gave  a  new  tone  to  the  age,  and  a 
sharper  edge  to  ecclesiastical  discipline.  But  as  late  as  1520, 
diversities  of  religious  opinion  spread  among  the  lower  orders, 
especially  in  the  towns,  without  much  notice  from  the 
hierarchy.  We  find  Ammonius,  indeed,  bantering  Erasmus, 
who  was  very  susceptible  of  cold,  on  the  price  of  faggots,  in 
consequence  of  the  daily  multiplication  of  heresy,  and  Erasmus 
answering  in  the  same  tone.-^  But  this  is  a  sort  of  banter 
which  must  not  be  interpreted  too  literally.  Had  it  been 
literally  true,  a  man  of  so  mild  a  temper  as  Erasmus,  and  an 
enemy  to  religious  persecution,  would  scarcely  have  indulged 
in  so  cruel  a  jest.  Foxe,  who  was  not  likely  to  have  overlooked 
such  instances,  records  only  two  cases  of  capital  punishment 
for  heresy  during  this  early  period  of  Henry's  reign.^  The 
rapid  increase  of  religious  independence  among  the  lower  and 
more  illiterate  classes  in  London,  as  stated  by  the  Italian 
secretary,^  may  be  accepted  as  a  fact.  But,  saving  their  old 
fi'eedom  of  taxing  the  Pope  and  his  doings,  and  the  cherished 
national  privilege  of  preaching  and  being  preached  to,  the 
general  body  of  the  people  had  not  yet  learned  to  question  the 
established  doctrines  of  the  Church.  For  the  most  part  they 
paid  Peter  pence,  and  heard  mass,  and  did  as  their  fathers 
had  done  before  them. 

I  turn  to  some  remarks  on  the  ministers  and  ambassadors 
through  whom  the  business  of  the  nation  was  carried  on,  at 
home  and  abroad. 

Sir  Harris  Nicolas  has  collected  with  great  assiduity  all 
that  relates  to  the  constitution  and  powers  of  the  Privy 
Council.^  Unfortunately  his  researches  point  to  a  later  period, 
and  he  has  been  able  to  throw  very  little  light  on  the  functions 
and  formation  of  that  body  as  it  existed  in  the  early  years  of 

I  I,  1948,  1957.  freely  indulg^ed  in   those  very  faults 

^  Had    Foxe,    the     Martyrologist,  of   suppression  and    equivocation   for 

been  an  honest  man,  his  carelessness  which  he  condemned  his  opponents. 

and  credulitywould  have  incapacitated  '  Ammonius  was  Italian  secretary 

him    from    being    a    trustworthy    his-  to  Henry  VIII.— Ed. 

torian.       Unfortanately    he   was    not  ''  Proceedingsof  the  Privy  Council. 

honest ;  he  tampered  with  the  docu-  Pref.  to  Vol.  VII. 

ments  that  came  into  his  hands,  and 


l/)09-14.]  THE   PRIVY   COUNCIL.  53 

Henry  VIII.  It  is  certain,  however,  from  the  answer  made  by 
Heni-y  YIII.  to  the  rebels  of  Yorkshire  in  1536,  that  the 
appointment  of  the  Lords  of  the  Council, — of  the  Privy  Council, 
as  it  is  sometimes  called, — was  entirely  dependent  on  the 
King's  pleasure.  As  some  of  the  great  officers  of  the  Crown 
had  no  seat  at  the  Council,  so  men  holding  no  office,  and  of 
no  rank,  were  to  be  found  among  its  numbers.^  In  fact,  the 
Privy  Council  at  this  time  was  apparently  nothing  more  than 
a  body  of  advisers  whom  the  King  might  summon  at  pleasure 
to  his  presence,  without  binding  himself  to  accept  their  sug- 
gestions;  without  necessarily  consulting  them  on  matters  of 
great  moment.  He  might  declare  w^ar,  or  determine  peace, 
or  form  treaties,  or  enter  upon  the  most  important  negotia- 
tions, not  only  without  their  advice,  but  without  so  much  as 
making  them  privy  to  his  intentions.  To  our  modern  notions 
it  will  seem  strange  that  the  orders  of  the  Privy  Council, 
which  are  pretty  frequent  at  the  commencement  of  the  reign, 
should  diminish  in  number  in  proportion  as  events  become 
important,  as  if  they  had  been  entrusted  only  with  the  ordi- 
nary and  formal  business  of  the  administration.  In  all 
matters  of  domestic,  and  still  more  of  foreign,  politics  the 
King  was  absolute.  No  check  was  imposed  upon  his  in- 
clinations by  his  ministers  or  the  House  of  Commons.  Even 
as  late  as  1526,  when  a  body  of  regulations  was  issued  for 
the  establishment  of  a  Council,  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
Council  was  far  from  being  of  the  highest  consideration 
in  the  State.  "  Forasmuch  as  the  Lord  Cardinal,"  it  is 
stated,  "the  Lord  Treasurer  of  England,  Lord  Privy  Seal, 
Lord  Steward,  and  divers  other  Lords  and  personages  before 
mentioned,  by  reason  of  their  attendance  at  the  terras  for 
administration  of  justice,  and  exercising  of  their  offices,  and 

'  The  King,  in  his  answer  to  the  The  entire  list  embraced  the  following 

demands  of  the  rebels  (State  Papers,  names; — the  Archbishop    (Warham), 

I.   507),  specifies  as  members  of  the  the    Bishops   of  Wincliester,  London, 

Privy  Council  in  these  early  years  the  Rochester,    and    Durham,    the    Earls 

Treasurer  (S'lrrey),  the  High  Steward  of    Surrey,   Oxford,   Shrewsbury,  and 

of  the  Household  (Shrewsbury),  Lords  Worcester,    Sir    Tlnmas    Lovell,    Sir 

Marney  and  Darcy,  the  Archbishop  of  Henry  Marny,  Sir  T.  Brandon,  Sir  T. 

Canterbury  (Warham),  and  the  Bishop  Enf-lefeld,    Sir    Edw.    Puyniuges,   Sir 

of  Winchester    (Fox).     The    rest,   he  John    Husee,    Sir    H.    Wiat,    Sir   Th. 

says,  were  lawyers  and  priests.  Among  Darcy,  Dr.  Yong,  T.  Docwra,  and  tho 

the  latter  he  doubtless  includes  Wolsey,  law  officers  Sir  J.  Cutte,  Sir  J.  Fynoux, 

who  was  only  Almoner  when  he  sate  and  others.     Wolsey  does  not  appear 

in    the    Council.     It    is    strange,    and  to  have  had  a  seat  in  tho  Councd  till 

hardly   candid,   that    he   should    have  Nov.,    1511,  and    therefore    1.  679    is 

omitted    the   names   of   the    Earls  of  misdated  in  tho  Calendar,  and  should 

Oxford  and  Worcester,  and  Dr.  Huthal,  probably  bo  referred  to  that  year. 
Bishop  of  Durham,  Secretary  of  State. 


54  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY    VHI.  [A.D. 

other  reasonable  impediments  shall  many  seasons  fortune 
to  be  absent  from  the  King's  court,  and  specially  in  term 
times,  to  the  intent  the  King's  highness  shall  not  be  any 
season  unfurnished  of  an  honourable  presence  of  councillors 
about  his  grace,  with  whom  his  highness  may  confer  upon  the 
premises  at  his  pleasure; — it  is  ordered  that  the  persons 
hereafter  mentioned  shall  give  their  continual  attendance  on 
the  causes  of  his  said  Council,  unto  what  place  soever  his 
highness  shall  resort."  Then  follow  the  names  of  the  Lord 
Chamberlain,  the  Bishop  of  Bath,  and  others.  "  And  because 
per  case  it  may  chance  some  of  these  aforenamed  persons  to 
be  absent,  be  it  always  provided  that  the  Bishop  of  Bath,  the 
Secretary,  Sir  Thomas  More,  and  the  Dean  of  the  Chapel,  or 
two  of  them  at  the  least,  always  be  present,  being  every  day  in 
the  forenoon  by  10  of  the  clock  at  the  furthest,  and  at  after- 
noon by  two  of  the  clock,  in  the  King's  dining  chamber,  or  in 
such  other  place  as  shall  fortune  to  be  appointed  for  the 
Council  Chamber."  ^ 

The  great  officers  of  the  Crown  were  Warham  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  Chancellor ;  Thomas  Earl  of  Surrey,  Lord 
High  Treasurer;  Fox  Bishop  of  Winchester,  Privy  Seal;  Sir 
Edward  Howard,  Lord  High  Admiral ;  the  Earl  of  Shrews- 
bury, Steward  of  the  Household  ;  Lord  Herbert,  Chamberlain  ; 
Euthal  Bishop  of  Durham,  Secretary  of  State.  Of  the 
members  of  the  Privy  Council  who  enjoyed  the  greatest 
influence,  Wolsey,  as  might  be  expected,  occupies  the  most 
conspicuous  place.  Next  to  him  was  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  "  a 
person  of  extreme  authority ; "  to  whose  jealousy  of  the 
Cardinal  foreign  ministers,  when  they  could  not  succeed  with 
Wolsey,  were  more  than  once  indebted  for  valuable  informa- 
tion. Charles  Brandon,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  nearer  than  any 
other  to  the  King  in  ago,  tastes,  and  love  of  martial  exercises, 
shared  much  of  his  confidence,  although  he  was  infinitely 
inferior  to  Henry  in  all  literary  and  intellectual  qualifications. 
"  He  is  associated  with  his  Majesty,"  says  Giustinian,  "  tan- 
quam  intclUgentiam  assistentem  orbi,  which  governs,  commands, 
and  acts  with  authority  scarcely  inferior  to  the  King  him- 
self." ^    Next  in  authority  was  Fox,  Bishop  of  Winchester ; 

•  Ordinances   for    the    Household  simply    addressed,    "  To    the    King's 

(Soc.    of  Antiquaries),    160. — I    have  Majesty,"  etc. 

abridged  one  or  two  needless  expres-  ^  Brown's  Four  Tears  at  the  Court 

sions.     I  may  observe  that  the  style  of  Hevry  VIII.,  i.  119.     As  Mr.  Brown 

"King    in    Council"    has  no  warrant  remarks,  the  "orb"  which  governs  is 

whatever  from  any  document  of  this  evidently  Wolsey. — Ed. 
early    date.     The   letters  are  always 


1509-14.]  ARCHBISHOP   WARHAM  AND   FOX.  55 

last  of  all,  Euthal,  the  patient  drudge  of  Wolsey.  Warham  is 
seldom  mentioned,  and  none  of  the  rest  appear  to  have  en- 
joyed any  consideration. 

It  will  seem  strange  that  the  name  of  Warham  should 
occur  so  seldom  except  in   connection  with   his   hio-h   le^al 
functions.     He  is  never  engaged  in  any  diplomatic  mission  of 
importance.     He  appears  from  the  first  to  have  declined  all 
public  business.     Drafts,  memoranda,  and  letters  are  frequent 
in  the  handwriting  of  Fox,  Euthal,  and  Wolsey.     But  nothing 
of  the  kind  is  found  in  the  handwriting  of  Warham.     In  the 
bustle  and  excitement  consequent  on  the  wars  in  Guienne  and 
Flanders,  and  the  naval  preparations   against   the  French, 
Warham  remained  an  impassive  spectator.     He  fell  at  the 
first  from  the  great  group  which  surrounded  the  throne  of  the 
young  prince,  and  lost  whatever  influence  he  might  otherwise 
have  commanded  by  his  station  and  experience.     To  what 
causes  this  neglect  is  to  be  attributed,  it  is  by  no  means  easy 
to  discover.      The  vulgar  supposition  which   imputes   it   to 
jealousy  on  the  part  of  Wolsey  is  without  foundation.     Long 
before  Wolsey's  name  ajipears  among   the   king's   advisers, 
Warham's  want  of  influence  is  visible.     Jealousy  of  the  Arch- 
bishop's power  over  the  young  king  would  have  been  the  most 
causeless  thing  imaginable ;  for  he  never  had  any.     He  was 
never   acceptable   either    to   Henry   or   to   Katharine.      His 
munificence  to  Erasmus  procured  for  him   the   praise    and 
gratitude  of  that  somewhat  venal  scholar ;  but  with  the  solitary 
exception  of  Erasmus,  and  perhaps  of  the  unhappy  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  for  whom  he  seems  to  have  entertained  some 
kindness,  it  would  be  hard  to  point  out  a  single  person  with 
whom  Warham  lived  on  terms  of  friendship.     Probably,  there- 
fore, the  little  influence  he  enjoyed  at  court  may  be  attributed, 
with  more  justice,  to  a  hardness  and  inflexibility  of  temper, 
which  could  not  bend  to  the  new  state  of  things,  or  comply 
with  the  impetuous  and  stirring  movements  of  Henry  VIIL, 
so  contrary  to  the  stateliness,  reserve,  and  mystery  of  the 
previous  reign.     In  1513  we  have  indications  that  the  Arch- 
bishop was  engaged  in  a  dispute  with  Fox,-^  the  most  devout 
and  gentle  of  all  Henry's  ministers.     We  find  Katharine,  no 
less  gentle  and  conscientious  than  Fox,  in  allusion  to  the  same 
dispute,  hinting  at  the  same  infirmity ;  ^  and  Warham's  own 
letters  at  a  subsequent  period  confirm  the  impression  of  his 
discourtesy,  not  to  say  moroseness. 

'   "  A  lord  of  extreme  authority  and  goodness,"  says  Giustijiian,  i.  1G3. 
*  I.  4452. 


56  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

Nor  does  the  common  tradition,  wbicli  owes  its  parentage 
to  the  spite  of  Polydore  Vergil,  whom  Wolsey  bad  committed 
to  prison,  rest  on  any  better  foundation.  Tbis  historian, 
who  never  forgot  tbe  injury,  and  never  could  forgive  the 
Cardinal,  would  have  us  believe  that  Wolsey  paved  tbe  way 
for  bis  own  advancement  by  supplanting  Fox,  and  driving  him 
from  tbe  Council.  Tbe  calumny,  like  many  others  affecting 
tbe  intimacies  of  great  men,  has  no  foundation.  It  was  better 
suited  to  tbe  atmosphere  of  Eome  than  of  England.  And  bad  it 
been  uttered  here,  Polydore  would  probably  have  been  told,  as 
one  of  bis  countrymen  was  told  by  an  Englishman  on  a  similar 
occasion :  "  Nou  isto  vivitur  illic,  quo  tu  rere  modo.'"  Tbe 
insinuation  is  at  variance  with  the  correspondence  of  tbe  two 
ministers.  We  see  in  their  letters,  not  only  the  cordial  friend- 
ship which  existed  between  them,  but  also  the  rooted  disin- 
clination of  Fox  to  a  life  of  diplomacy.  It  is  only  with  the 
strongest  arguments  that  Wolsey  can  prevail  on  him  to  give 
bis  attendance  at  the  court,  and  occupy  bis  seat  at  the  Council 
table.  He  was  always  anxious  to  get  away.  He  felt  it  incon- 
sistent with  his  duties  as  a  bishop  to  be  immersed  in  politics, 
and  be  laments  it  to  Wolsey,  in  a  letter  to  be  noted  hereafter, 
in  terms  the  sincerity  of  which  cannot  be  mistaken.  In  fact 
tbe  noblest  minds  of  tbe  time  often  experienced  tbe  bitter 
struggle  between  tbe  King  as  their  conscience  and  their  con- 
science as  their  King.  Others  than  Fox  regretted  that  they 
had  neglected  their  spiritual  calling  to  serve  tbe  State. 

It  must  also  be  remembered  that  Fox  belonged  to  tbe  old 
order  of  things,  when  monastic  seclusion  to  men  of  bis  devout 
turn,  and  total  retirement  from  secular  employments  seemed 
tbe  only  life  that  deserved  the  name  of  rehgious.  Great  was 
tbe  fascination  exercised  by  Henry  VII.,  and  still  more  by 
Henry  VIII.,  over  the  minds  of  such  men ;  but  times  of  com- 
punction came  when  tbis  total  alienation  of  thought  and  action 
from  their  duties  as  spiritual  men  became  an  intolerable 
burthen.  So  far  from  driving  Fox  from  tbe  court,  it  is  the 
utmost  that  Wolsey  can  do  to  bring  him  there  ;  and  when  be 
succeeds,  it  is  evidently  more  out  of  compassion  for  Wolsey's 
incredible  labours  than  his  own  inclination. 

In  this  respect  tbe  statesmen  of  Henry  differ  greatly  from 
those  of  EHzabeth.  Numerous  are  the  complaints  of  tbe 
weariness  and  expense  of  public  employment.  There  is  not 
an  ambassador  who  does  not  send  reiterated  entreaties  to  tbe 
King  or  Wolsey  to  be  recalled  and  released.  Men  of  still  lower 


1509-14]  PUBLIC   BUSINESS   FALLS   ON   WOLSEY.  57 

grade  petition  continually  for  exemption  from  offices  which 
were  greedily  sought  a  century  later.  The  simpler  and 
sincerer  habits  of  those  days,  must  not  be  measured  by  the 
finesse  and  dissimulation  of  later  times.  Habits  of  seclusion 
were  congenial  to  the  age. 

So  the  main  weight  of  public  business  fell  upon  Euthal 
and  Wolsey ;  the  former  of  whom  had  the  reputation  of  being 
the  wealthiest  prelate  in  England,  and  was  not  altogether 
exempt  from  the  imputation  of  penuriousness.  His  import- 
ance was  due  to  his  close  connexion  with  Wolsey,^  and  to  his 
dignity  as  Bishop  of  Durham.  Owing  to  the  proximity  of 
Durham  to  the  borders,  none  but  a  wealthy  prelate  could  hold 
that  see  with  efficiency.  It  demanded  a  princely  income  to 
keep  Norham  and  the  neighbouring  fortresses  in  repair,  and 
provide  against  the  continual  incursions  of  the  Scots.  It 
needed  a  wealthy  bishop,  but  no  more ;  the  less  formidable  for 
genius  or  ambition  the  better.  For  there  were  elements  of 
discord  and  insubordination  in  the  North,  which  might  burst 
forth  at  any  time,  and  find  a  nucleus  for  their  organization  in 
an  active  and  enterprizing  prelate.  On  that  head  there  was 
not  much  to  apprehend  from  the  talents  or  ambition  of 
Euthal.  The  numerous  letters  and  drafts  in  his  handwriting, 
often  mistaken  for  Wolsey's,  and  probably  written  at  Wolsey's 
dictation,  show  Euthal's  labour  and  patience.  His  own  letters 
do  not  inspire  much  respect  for  his  judgment  or  his  genius. 

Unlike  his  fellows  in  the  Council,  Wolsey's  attention  to 
business  was  not  distracted  by  the  duties  of  a  high  ecclesias- 
tical appointment,  or  even  the  claims  of  large  territorial 
estates.  He  held  at  this  time  no  other  preferment  than  the 
deanery  of  Lincoln.  The  bent  of  his  genius  was  exclusively 
political ;  but  it  leaned  more  to  foreign  than  domestic  politics. 
It  shone  more  conspicuous  in  great  diplomatic  combinations, 
for  which  the  earlier  years  of  the  reign  furnished  favourable 
opportunities,  than  in  domestic  reforms.  No  man  understood 
so  well  the  interests  of  this  kingdom  in  its  relations  to  foreign 
powers,  or  pursued  them  with  greater  skill  and  boldness. 
The  more  hazardous  the  conjuncture,  the  higher  his  spirit 
soared  to  meet  it.  His  intellect  expanded  with  the  occasion. 
Even  at  this  early  time  he  knew  the  extent  of  his  power,  and 
the  temper  of  those  with  whom  he  had  to  deal.  In  a  very 
characteristic   letter  to   his   vicar-general    at   Tournay,   Dr. 

'  "  Singing  treble  to  the  Cardinal's  base,"  is  the  expression  of  Giastinian, 
i.  260. 


58  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   YHI.  [A.D. 

Sampson,  who  alleged  the  difficulties  he  encountered  in  his 
administration  there,  Wolsey  tells  him  to  do  his  duty  :^  "Ye 
need  not  douht  thereof ;  the  pope  would  not  offend  me  for  one 
thousand  such  as  the  elect  ^  is,  nor  there  is  no  such  thing 
spoken  of  nor  intended.  I  would  not  have  you  muse  upon  the 
moon,  but  to  go  straightly  and  wisely  to  my  matters."  Proud 
Cardinal  and  proud  prelate  were  the  terms  lavished  upon  him 
by  men  as  proud  as  himself,  with  much  less  reason  to  be 
proud.  From  a  humble  station,  by  his  own  unassisted  efforts 
he  had  raised  himself  to  the  most  conspicuous  position,  not  in 
this  nation  only,  but  throughout  the  whole  of  Europe.  "  He 
was  seven  times  greater  than  the  Pope  himself,"  is  no  exagge- 
ration of  the  Venetian  Giustinian  ;  for  he  saw  at  his  feet,  what 
no  Pope  had  for  a  long  time  seen,  and  no  subject  before  or 
since,  Princes,  Kings,  and  Emperors  courting  his  smiles. 
Born  to  command,  infinitely  superior  in  genius  to  those  who 
addressed  him,  piercing  their  motives  at  a  glance,  he  was  lofty 
and  impatient.  But  there  is  not  a  trace  throughout  his 
correspondence  of  the  ostentation  of  vulgar  triumph  or 
gratified  vanity.  Grave  and  earnest,  it  occasionally  descends 
to  irony — is  sometimes  pungent,  never  vainglorious.  Am- 
bassadors from  foreign  courts,  when  they  first  visit  England, 
address  themselves  to  the  King,  and  write  letters  to  the 
Council.  After  a  few  weeks  a  little  penetration  enables  them 
to  discover  by  whose  judgment  and  decision  every  great 
question  will  be  eventually  decided. 

But  throughout  the  whole  period  of  his  long  administra- 
tion, and  through  all  his  correspondence,  it  is  remarkable  how 
small  a  portion  of  his  thoughts  is  occupied  with  domestic 
affairs ;  and  with  religious  matters  still  less.  Looking  back 
upon  the  reign,  and  judging  it  as  we  do  now  by  one  great 
event,  and  one  only,  it  aj)pears  inconceivable  that  a  man  of 
80  much  penetration  and  experience  should  have  taken  such  a 
little  interest  in  the  religious  movements  of  the  day,  and 
regarded  Luther  and  the  progress  of  the  Eeformation  with  so 
little  concern.  Grand  also  and  munificent  as  were  his  notions 
of  education,  it  is  hard  to  find  any  statesman  of  his  eminence 
who  manifested  less  interest  in  the  revival  of  letters,  and 
cared  less  for  Ciceronianisms  and  Latin  elegancies.  When, 
from  a  variety  of  causes,  questions  of  domestic  interest  became 

'  I.  p.  949.  the    English ;    who   was    never    con- 

*  The  French  bishop  elected  to  the       secrated,  but  was  continually  seeking 
see  of  Tournay  before  its  conquest  by       recognition  from  the  Pope. — Ed. 


1509-14.]  WOLSEY'S   CAREER.  59 

paramount,  and  the  Sovereign  and  the  nation  were  engrossed 
in  rehgious  discussions,  the  genius  of  Wolsey  was  no  longer 
required.  It  no  longer  occupied  the  entire  field  of  politics. 
The  result  was  fatal ;  younger  men  understood  the  temper  of 
the  times  better  than  he ;  they  had  the  advantage  of  mixing 
in  the  strife  with  minds  less  prejudiced  by  the  traditional 
maxims  of  the  j)ast ;  they  were  less  trammelled  by  rules 
which  no  longer  suited  the  rapid  changes  of  the  age.  But  so 
long  as  domestic  questions  remained  in  abeyance — so  long 
as  the  movements  of  Francis  I.,  Charles  V.,  or  the  Pope, 
were  immeasurably  more  important  than  labourers'  wages, 
the  exactions  of  the  London  clergy,  or  the  excesses  of  the 
Ecclesiastical  courts — so  long  the  genius  of  Wolsey  rode 
triumj)hant.  No  one  could  for  a  moment  mount  within  his 
sphere,  or  contest  his  superiority. 

The  eclipse  of  his  greatness  was  inevitable.  It  was  in 
some  measure  owing  to  the  dying  off  of  his  older  associates 
who  had  served  under  Henry  VII. — to  the  youth  and  inex- 
perience of  the  men  about  Henry  VIII. — to  the  reluctance 
with  which  Wolsey  admitted  fresh  hands  to  a  share  of  his 
labours.  More  than  once  he  was  urged  by  the  King  to  promote 
younger  associates,  and  provide  for  contingencies  in  the  public 
service.  More  than  once  he  finds  excuses  for  complying,  not 
from  envy  or  selfishness ;  but,  like  other  great  and  successful 
ministers  who  have  long  stood  supreme  and  alone,  he  grew 
more  fastidious  as  he  grew  older ;  he  was  less  willing  to 
hazard  his  measures  by  intrusting  them  to  others,  or  damage 
the  success  of  his  plans  through  the  indiscretion  and  inex- 
perience of  younger  heads.  With  the  failing  natural  to  old 
age,  he  was  more  willing  to  tax  his  waning  strength,  than 
undertake  the  ungracious  and  unpalatable  task  of  communi- 
cating his  designs  and  explaining  their  bearings  to  raw  asso- 
ciates. The  policy  was  fatal ;— it  angered  the  King,  it  raised 
up  a  host  of  enemies  in  the  able  and  rising  courtiers.  It  left 
Wolsey  friendless  when  he  most  needed  friends ;  and  the 
moment  an  opportunity  offered  of  attacking  the  minister 
behind  his  back,  it  was  readily  seized  on.  Without  any  great 
ingratitude  on  the  part  of  his  Sovereign,  his  fall  was  inevitable; 
the  work  and  the  time  had  outgrown  him  ; — and  the  expression 
put  into  his  mouth  by  the  great  dramatist,  "the  King  has  gone 
beyond  me,"  expresses  Wolsey's  profound  conviction  of  the  real 
causes  of  his  disgrace,  and  the  impossibility  of  his  rcstoratum. 

But  of  his  wonderful  genius,  most  wonderful  in  the  earlier 


60 


THE   KEIGN   OF  HENRY   VIII. 


[A.D. 


stage  of  his  career,  abundant  proofs  will  be  found  in  the 
corres2Dondence  of  the  time.  The  policy  of  Henry  VIII.  at  the 
outset  presented  as  great  a  contrast  to  the  policy  of  Henry  VII. 
as  the  administration  of  Cromwell  did  to  his  predecessor's. 
No  minister  so  thoroughly  understood  that  change  as  Wolsey, 
or  entered  upon  it  with  so  much  zeal  and  energy. 

Of  his  personal  appearance  the  most  faithful  record  will 
be  found  in  his  picture  at  Hampton  Court.  On  that  portrait 
the  memorial  sent  by  Sebastian  Giustiuian  to  his  Signory  in 
1519  is  the  best  comment : — 

"He  is  about  forty-six  years  old,"  says  the  writer,  "very 
handsome,^  learned,  extremely  eloquent,  of  vast  ability,  and 
indefatigable.  He  alone  transacts  the  same  business  as  that 
which  occupies  all  the  magistracies,  offices,  and  councils  of 
Venice,  both  civil  and  criminal ;  and  all  state  affairs  likewise 
are  managed  by  him,  let  their  nature  be  what  it  may. 

"He  is  pensive,  and  has  the  reputation  of  being  extremely 
just.  He  favours  the  people  exceedingly,  and  especially  the 
poor,  hearing  their  suits  and  seeking  to  despatch  them 
instantly.  He  also  makes  the  lawyers  plead  gratis  for  all 
paupers.  He  is  in  very  great  repute,  seven  times  more  so 
than  if  he  were  Pope.^ 

"He  is  the  person,"  continues  the  ambassador,  "who 
rules  both  the  King  and  the  entire  kingdom.  On  the  ambas- 
sador's first  arrival  in  England  he  used  to  say,  '  His  Majesty 
ivill  do  so  and  so ;  '  subsequently  by  degrees  he  went  on  for- 
getting himself,  and  commenced  saying,  '  We  shall  do  so  and 
so ; '  at  this  present  he  has  reached  such  a  pitch  that  he 
says,  '  /  shall  do  so  and  soJ*  " 

The  story  of  his  low  birth,  though  noticed  by  Giustinian, 
is   apparently  exaggerated.^     Its  common  version   is  hardly 


*  Tet  his  imiDlacable  enemies, 
Skelton  and  Eoy,  state  that  he  was 
disfigured  by  the  small-pox.  Skelton 
adds  that  he  was 

"  So  full  of  melancholy, 
With  a  flap  afore  his  eye." — 
Why  come  ye  not  to  Court  ?   ver.  1166. 

Apparently  a  hanging  eye-lid.  He 
elsewhei-e  speaks  of  Dr.  Balthazar, 
Queen  Katharine's  surgeon,  being  em- 
ployed by  Wolsey  for  a  complaint  in 
his  eye.  Ver.  1194.  It  is  noticeable 
that  Holbein  gives  Wolsey's  side  face 
only. 

2  Desp.  ii.  314. 

^  The  story  was  probably  set  afloat 


by  Skelton.  Speaking  of  the  dread 
entertained  of  Wolsey  by  the  nobiUty, 
he  has  these  lines  : — ■ 

"  They  dare  not  look  out  at  doors 
For  dread  of  the  mastiff  cur ; 
For  dread  the  butcher's  dog 
Would  worry  them  like  a  hog." 

Why  come  ye  not  to  Court  ?  ver.  293. 

And  again  he  asserts  : — 

"  His  base  progeny 
And  his  greasy  genealogy  ; 
He  came  out  of  the  sink  royal 
That  was  cast  out  of  a  butcher's 
stall."— Ver.  488. 


1509-14]  DESCRIPTION   OF   WOLSEY.  61 

consistent  with  the  Privy  Seal/  Feb.  21,  1510,  granted  to 
Edmund  Daundy,  of  Ipswich,  empowering  him  to  found  a 
chantry  in  the  southern  nave  of  St.  Lawrence,  Ipswich,  to 
pray  for  the  good  estate  of  the  King  and  the  Queen,  and 
among  others  for  the  souls  of  Eobert  Wolsey  and  Joan  his 
wife,  father  and  mother  of  Thomas  Wolsey,  Dean  of  Lincoln. 
Indeed,  had  the  story  been  true,  it  is  highly  improbable  that 
it  would  have  escaped  the  notice  of  his  implacable  enemy 
Polydore  Vergil.  He  was  educated  at  Oxford  for  the  priest- 
hood, but  from  the  expression  in  his  father's  will,  published 
by  Fiddes,  appears  to  have  felt  some  reluctance  at  taking 
orders.  Many  evidences  remain  of  his  skill  in  the  Latin 
tongue,  but  none  that  he  was  a  master  of  any  other,  whether 
French  or  Italian.  Though  theology  was  not  his  forte,  yet 
even  his  old  enemy  and  maligner,  Polydore  Vergil,  admits 
his  abilities  as  a  theologian.^  According  to  the  same  writer, 
he  was  a  Thomist,  and  induced  the  King  to  study  the  works 
of  Aquinas.  Beneath  the  malice  of  his  personal  enemies  it 
is  easy  to  trace  the  more  obvious  traits  of  his  person  and 
character.  He  was  extremely  popular  in  his  manners ; 
offended  the  older  courtiers  of  the  last  reign  by  his  wit, 
and  by  the  absence  of  that  reserved  and  solemn  demeanour 
which,  we  can  readily  believe,  was  acceptable  at  the  court 
of  Henry  VII.  From  the  bitter  and  indiscriminate  satire  of 
Skelton,  written  at  a  later  period,  we  gain  a  few  other  personal 
traits  of  the  Cardinal.  After  affirming  that  the  French, 
though  defeated  in  legitimate  warfare,  shot  crowns  at  the 
cardinal's  hat  and  blinded  him — 

"That  he  ne  see  can, 
To  know  God  or  man  ;  " 

he  proceeds  in  the  following  strain  : — 

"He  is  set  so  high 
In  his  liierarchy, 
Of  frantic  phrenesy 
And  foolish  jihantasy, 
That  in  the  Chamber  of  Stars 
All  matters  there  he  mars. 
Clapping  his  rod  on  the  Board, 
No  man  dare  speak  a  word  ; 
For  he  hath  all  the  saying, 
Without  any  renaying.-' 
He  roUeth  in  his  records, 
And  saith,  '  How  say  ye,  my  Lords  ? 

'   1.899.  *  "Divinis  littcrisnon  indoctus,"  p.  17.  ^Contradiction. 


62  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

Is  not  my  reason  good  ? ' 

Good  even,  good  Robin  Hood  !  * 

Some  say,  '  Yes  ; '  and  some 

Sit  still  as  they  were  dumb. 

Thus  thwarting  over  them 

He  ruleth  all  the  roast 

With  bragging  and  with  boast." * 

Expressive  enough  this,  of  the  Cardinal's  abrupt  behaviour  to 
the  Lords  in  the  Star  Chamber.  The  charge  of  not  keeping 
the  Lent  fast,  a  graceless  accusation  from  Skelton,  has  some 
foundation  in  fact : 

' '  In  Lent,  for  a  repast, 
He  eateth  capons  stewed, 
Pheasant  and  partridge  mewed." 

for  we  find  in  the  records  of  the  time  that,  in  consequence  of 
the  weakness  of  his  stomach,  Wolsey  had  obtained  a  dispen- 
sation from  Leo  X.  to  eat  flesh  in  Lent.  The  poet  is  not  less 
severe  against  the  Cardinal's  conduct  as  chancellor,  and  his 
contempt  of  the  lawyers  who  pleaded  before  him  : 

"At  the  Common  Pleas, 
Or  at  the  King's  Bench, 
He  wringeth  them  such  a  wrench, 
That  all  our  learned  men 
Dare  not  set  their  pen 
To  plead  a  true  trial 
Within  Westminster  Hall. 
In  the  Chancery  where  he  sits, 
But  such  as  he  admits, 
None  so  hardy  to  speak. 
He  saith,  '  Thou  huddypeke, 
Thy  learning  is  tod  lewd  ; '  "  3 

He  then  alludes  to  divisions  in  the  Privy  Council ;  ^ — to  the 
vast  crowd  of  suitors  who  attended  the  Cardinal's  palace  at 
Hampton  Court  as  compared  with  the  King's  Court ; — to  the 
influence  which  the  Cardinal  exercised  over  the  King's  mind : 

"  That  all  is  but  nut-shells 
That  any  other  saith  : 
He  hath  in  him  such  faith." ' 


Not  satisfied  with  this  indiscriminate  condemnation  of 
Wolsey's  public  conduct,  Skelton  proceeds  to  attack  him  for 
his  want  of  learning  : 

"He  was  but  a  poor  master  of  art ; 
God  wot,  had  little  part 

*  They  are  coTnpelled   to  be  civil       ver.  181.     Written  about  1524. 
as   one  is    to  a  robber  who  demands  ^  lb.  383. 

his  pnrse.  ■*  lb.  401. 

*  Why    come    ye    not    to    Court  ?  '  lb.  440. 


>o 


1509-14.]  DISLIKE   OF   WOLSEY.  6 

Of  the  quadrivials, 
Nor  yet  of  tri vials/ 
Nor  of  philosopliy. 

3(i  3K  V  SfC 

His  Latin  tongue  doth  hobble, 
He  doth  but  clout  and  cobble 
In  Tully's  faculty. "  2 

And  for  this  charge  there  might  be  some  foundation  in  the 
little  apparent  interest  taken  by  Wolsej^  in  classical  learning. 
Such  indifference  was  enough  to  expose  him  to  the  attacks  of 
the  popular  writers  of  the  day.  But  abuse  so  virulent  and 
unguarded  defeats  itself.  Besides,  in  animosity  against  the 
Cardinal,  Skelton  was  animated  by  party  feelings.  He  was 
a  native  of  Norfolk,  had  evidently  resided  some  time  at 
Norwich,^  was  intimate  with  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  and  his 
son,  and  never  omits  any  opportunity  of  recommending  him- 
self to  their  good  graces  by  praising  some  member  of  the 
family,  or  blackening  their  personal  and  political  adversaries.* 
Yet  when  occasion  demanded,  Skelton  could  be  as  servile  to 
Wolsey  as  at  other  times  he  was  severe. 

For  the  long  feud  between  Wolsey  and  his  formidable 
rival  in  the  cabinet,  Thomas  Earl  of  Surrey,  the  Treasurer, 
created  for  his  victory  at  Flodden  Duke  of  Norfolk,  there  is 
much  better  authority.  From  one  of  Wolsey's  own  letters® 
it  is  clear  that  Polydore  Vergil  was  not  far  wrong  in  stating 
that  he  and  Fox  regarded  this  nobleman  with  dislike.  They 
suspected  him  of  tempting  the  King  into  habits  of  extravagance, 
and  fostering  his  passion  for  military  distinction.  Polydore 
insinuates  that  the  earl  made  use  of  his  influence  with  the 
King  for  t]ie  selfish  purpose  of  repairing  his  estates  crippled 
by  the  late  civil  wars.  I  cannot  find  any  documents  which 
justify  this  assertion.  No  extraordinary  gifts  to  the  Earl  in 
land  or  money  are  to  be  found  among  the  earlier  records  of 
the  reign ;  with  the  exception  of  his  patent  of  nobihty,  and 
the  annuities  granted  him  after  the  battle  of  Flodden ;  ^ — a 
victory  which  eclipsed  all  others  in  the  estimation  of  his 
contemporaries,  and  could  scarcely  be  overpaid  by  any  honours 
or  emoluments.    In  common  with  other  members  of  his  family, 

'  That  is,  ftitVier  of  the  higher  or  distancn  from  the  patns  of  that  city. 

lower  university  training.  *  One    of    his  most    biting   pocma 

*  Vcr.  5U9.  is  upon    Christopher    Garnish,  whoso 

'  The   scene  of   his  most   popular  name  frcqiicnlly  occurs  in  the  Calendar. 

poem,  "  Pliilip    Sparrow,"    is    laid    at  "  I.  ;J143. 

Carrovv    A\)\ti-y,    the    ruins    of  wliicli  *  I.  4GU4. 

remained  not   lung  since  at   a   little 


61  THE  EEIGN    OF  HENRY   YIII.  [A.D. 

the  Duke  was  not  partial  to  Wolsey.  He  disliked  the  influence 
exercised  by  the  Churchmen  over  the  young  King,  and  pro- 
bably hoped  to  counteract  their  authority  by  engaging  Henry 
in  foreign  conquests  and  removing  him  from  the  sphere  of 
their  influence.  The  feud  descended  to  the  next  Duke ;  and 
their  party  was  espoused  by  the  Earl  of  Northumberland. 
They  would  have  been  much  more  formidable  opponents,  but 
for  the  affection  which  the  King  entertained  for  Charles 
Brandon,  afterwards  Duke  of  Suflolk.  Henry's  partiality  to 
this  brilliant  nobleman  exceeded  the  bounds  of  ordinary 
friendship.  He  pushed  Brandon's  fortunes  with  the  affection 
and  assiduity  of  a  brother.  But  Suffolk  managed  a  war-horse 
much  better  than  he  wielded  a  pen.^  He  took  but  little 
interest  in  politics,  and  his  subsequent  marriage  with  Mary, 
the  King's  sister,  compelled  him  to  espouse  the  side  of  Wolsey 
rather  than  of  Norfolk.  The  other  members  of  the  Council 
had  a  vote,  no  more  ;  vox  et  jJrteterea  nihil. 

Of  the  offices  connected  with  the  Privy  Council  little  needs 
be  said.  The  chancellorship  of  the  Exchequer  was  a  patent 
office  of  forty  marks  a  year.  The  King's  secretary,  if  Erasmus 
may  be  trusted,  was  a  more  lucrative  post.  The  most  eminent 
of  the  number  was  Eichard  Pace,  who  in  these  early  years 
appears  only  as  the  faithful  servant  and  executor  of  Cardinal 
Bainbridge.  The  Secretaries  of  State  were  secretaries,  and  no 
more,  employed  in  making  fair  copies  of  despatches.  The 
secretary  for  the  Latin  tongue  was  Andreas  Ammonius,  the 
friend  and  correspondent  of  Erasmus ;  the  secretary  for 
the  French  tongue,  Peter  Meautys,  whose  salary  amounted  to 
no  more  than  forty  marks  a  year.^ 

Of  the  ambassadors  of  the  time  few  seem  to  have  been 
drawn  from  the  higher  class  of  the  nobility.  The  duties  and 
emoluments,  and  even  the  honour  of  such  appointments,  were 
not  sufiiciently  tempting.  The  usual  fixed  pay  of  a  resident 
was  five  shillings  a  day,  increased  by  occasional  bounties  from 
the  King.  In  some  instances  the  ambassador  was  paid  as 
much  as  20s.  per  diem,  but  this  sum  included  his  own  travel- 
ling expenses  and  diet  and  those  of  his  suite.  John  Stile, 
sent  to  reside  with  the  King   of  Ai-ragon,  Jan.  20,  1511,  is 

*  Of   the  three  greatest  noblemen  is  the  most  tortuous  and  ingenionsly 

of  the  time,  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  the  perverse.     Doubtless  it  was  phouetic  ; 

Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  the  Marquis  and  fastidious  readers  will  be  shocked 

of  Dorset,   it  would    be  hard  to  say  to  learn  that  the  aspirate  often  pre- 

which  was  the  most  illiterate.     Per-  dominated  where  it  had  no  right, 
haps  the  spelling  of  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  -  I.  5«8. 


1509-14.]  AMBASSADOES.  65 

paid  10,s.  a  day ;   Sir  Eobert  Drury  and  Lord  Dacre,  ambas- 
sadors into  Scotland,  20s.  a  day;  June  19,  1511.     Dr.  Yonrf, 
Master  of  the  Eolls,  on  his  embassy  into  France,  July  18, 
1511,  the  same.     When  the  Bishop  of  Eochester  (Fisher),  the 
Prior  of  St.  John's,  and  the  x\bbot  of  Wynchcombe,  were  sent 
ambassadors    to    the    Pope,    Feb.    5,    1512,    the    first    and 
second  received  800?.,  the  third  800  marks,  for  their  expenses 
during    160    days.      Dr.    West,    ambassador   into    Scotland, 
April  16,  1512,  had  20s.  a  day,  and  Lord  Dacre,  sent  with 
him,  40s.  a  day.     In  addition  to  his  pay  as  an  ambassador, 
John  Stile  receives  a  pension,  May  12,    1511,   of  40  marks 
yearly  for  his  services  beyond  sea;    Thomas  Spinelly,  50L, 
Dec.    23,   1511.^     But   their   emoluments   and   their   dignity 
were  entirely  dependent  on  the  King's  liberality;   and,  as  the 
sums  given  them  were  often  irregularly  paid,  and  generally  in 
arrears,  the  position  of  an  ambassador  was  not  always  to  be 
coveted.     More,  writing  to  Erasmus,^  in  his  usual  pleasant 
strain,  describes  in  lively  colours  the   miseries  to  which  an 
English  plenipotentiary  was  subjected.     "  Tunstal,"  he  says, 
"  has  just  left  this ;  having  spent  scarcely  ten  days  here,  and 
none   to  his  own  satisfactioii.     He   has  been  anxiously  and 
arduously  employed  all  the  time  in  setting  forth  those  things 
which  belong  to  an  ambassador's  commission.     No  sooner  is 
this  over,  than,  vastly  against  his  will,  he  is  thrust  again  on 
a  new  legation,  without  any  warning.     I  never  liked  the  office 
of  an  ambassador.     We  laymen  and  you  priests  are  not  on 
equal  terms   on  such  occasions ;  for  you  have  no  wives  or 
children  at  home,  or  find  them  wherever  you  go.     Whereas 
whenever  we  laymen  are  away,  we  are  called  back  by  the  love 
of  our  wives  and  our  families.     When  a  priest  starts  on  his 
mission,  he  can  take  his  whole  family  with  him,  and  feed  at 
the  King's  expense,  those  whom  he  must  otherwise  have  fed 
at  home  ;  but  whenever  I  am  absent  I  have  two  families  to 
keep,    one   at   home   and   one  abroad.      The   King  provides 
tolerably  well  for  those  whom  I  must  take  with  me ;   but  no 
consideration  is  paid  to  those  whom  I  leave  behind.     You 
know  what  a  kind  husband  I  am  !   what  an  indulgent  father, 
and  lenient  master !   and  yet  for  all  this  I  cannot  prevail  on 
my  wife,  children,  and   servants  to  close  their  mouths  and 
stop  eating  until  I  return."     The  miseries  of  ambassadors, 

*  These  notices  are  from  the  warrants  directed  to  the  Treasurer  of  tLo 
Chamber. 

»  PJp.  ii.  IG. 
VOL.  I.  F 


66  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

thus  jocosely  insisted  on  by  More,  find  an  echo  in  earnest  in 
the  correspondence  of  tlie  ministers  at  the  different  courts  ; 
and  though  the  cares  of  their  employment  were  sometimes 
alleviated  by  donatives  or  appointments,  it  was  sufficiently 
onerous  and  ill-paid  to  deter  many  competitors  from  seeking  it. 

Of  the  ambassadors  thus  employed  few  were  of  high  birth, 
or,  with  one  exception,  of  high  position.  John  Stile,  the 
English  ambassador  at  the  expensive  court  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella,  was  a  man  of  no  rank  or  education.  His  English  is 
extremely  uncouth  and  often  obscure.  It  is  not  improbable 
that  he  was  engaged  in  business,  like  others  in  the  same 
position.^  Peter  Martyr  calls  him  a  gentleman  of  the  chamber. 
This  may  well  be  ;  for  such  occupations  were  not  considered 
incompatible  with  a  place  at  court.  Thus,  Kichard  Lloid, 
groom  of  the  chamber,  is  searcher  in  the  port  of  Yarmouth ;  ^ 
Brian  Tuke,  clerk  of  the  signet,  obtains  a  licence  to  export 
kerseys  ;  ^  James  Worsley,  groom  of  the  robes,  to  import  wine 
and  woad ;  *  Giles  Talbot,  groom  of  the  chamber,  to  import 
400  tons  of  the  same  ;^  Sir  Wistan  Brown  and  William  Sydney, 
to  export  2,000  sacks  of  wool.^  They  may  have  retailed  these 
licences  to  Italian  or  other  merchants,  and  occupied  their 
offices  as  searchers  by  deputy.  But  whether  they  traded  in 
their  own  names,  or  used  their  influence  at  Court  in  obtaining 
these  licences  for  others,  never  seems  to  have  been  either 
questioned  or  condemned. 

Another  of  these  ambassadors,  Thomas  Spinelly,  the  Eng- 
lish resident  in  Flanders  at  the  court  of  the  Archduchess,  was 
evidently  a  merchant  like  his  brothers.  His  earlier  letters 
are  written  in  French,  his  latter  ones  in  English ;  but  he 
wrote  neither  of  those  languages  with  elegance,  and  barely 
with  correctness.  He  seems  to  have  been  by  birth  an  Italian  ; 
but  little  else  is  known  of  him  beyond  the  information 
furnished  by  his  own  correspondence.  Like  Stile,  he  appears 
to  have  been  employed  by  Henry  VII.  He  died  in  the  King's 
service  at  the  court  of  Spain  in  1524.  Sir  Robert  Wingfield,  on 
the  contrary,  the  ambassador  with  Maximilian,  was  of  a  good 
family,  settled  in  the  county  of  Suffolk,  and  evidently  a  man 
of  some  literary  culture, — a  gift  he  did  not  hide  in  a  corner. 
He  was  deputy  of  Calais,  but  discharged  the  duties  of  that 

'  The  name  of  John  Stile,  grocer  court  of  Arragon. 
(that    is,    engrosser),    London,    alias  ^  I.  700. 

scribe,  occurs  in  I.  1662;  and  again,  *  I.  1873,  3700. 

of  John  Stile,  collector  at  the  port  of  *  I.  2058. 

Plymouth  (I.  1810),  who   is   certainly  =  I.  4746. 

the  same   as  the  ambassador  at  the  ^  I.  3143. 


1509-14.]  AMBASSADORS.  G7 

place  by  Sir  Richard  Wingfield,  his  brother.  His  allowance  at 
the  court  of  the  Emperor  was  '20s.  a  day/  and  the  liberal 
grants  made  him  by  the  King  are  evidences  of  the  estimation 
in  which  he  was  held.^  He,  too,  seems  to  have  been  emploj^ed 
by  Henry  VH.  In  fact,  with  the  exception  of  Cardinal  Bain- 
bridge  at  Eome,  the  same  names  of  English  and  foreign 
residents  occur  under  both  reigns.  Cardinal  Baiubridge  was 
selected  for  his  high  ecclesiastical  position  in  a  court  entirely 
governed  by  Archbishops  and  Cardinals.  His  wealth  probably 
was  an  additional  motive.  For  none  but  a  wealthy  prelate 
could  hope  to  support  the  expense  of  a  residence  at  Eome. 
His  rival  in  the  same  court,  De  Giglis,  Bishop  of  Worcester, 
who  was  supposed  to  be  instrumental  in  Bainbridge's  death, 
had  been  in  the  service  of  Henry  VII.  So  was  Hadrian  de 
Corneto,  the  patron  of  Polydore  Vergil ;  both  of  whom  seem  to 
have  tasted  the  bounty  of  Henry  VIII.  The  letters  of  these 
ecclesiastics,  and  the  correspondence  relating  to  Bainbridge's 
murder,  are  of  the  greatest  interest.  Above  all,  the  letter  of 
Wolsey  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester,^  partly  on  that  subject,  and 
partly  on  the  efforts  made  to  obtain  for  him  the  cardinalate, 
will  repay  an  attentive  perusal.  Sir  Edward  Ponynges,  Dr. 
"Will.  Knight,  Su-  Thomas  Boleyn,  Dr.  Tunstal  and  Dr.  Yong, 
Masters  of  the  Piolls,  and  the  Earl  of  Worcester,  were  employed 
on  occasional  missions  of  more  than  usual  delicacy  and  import- 
ance. But  the  permanent  residents  were  generally  men  of  a 
lower  position.  This  policy  was  inaugurated  by  Henry  VII. 
It  seemed  to  his  reserved  and  suspicious  temper  safer  to  trust 
meaner  instruments,  whom  he  could  shake  off  at  j)leasure 
without  incurring  danger  from  their  resentment.  It  was  more 
economical.  The  employment  of  humbler  men  had,  moreover, 
this  advantage  :  they  could  more  easilj^  accommodate  them- 
selves to  circumstances,  and  collect  information  with  greater 
readiness  than  men  of  higher  rank  and  pretensions.  We  are 
gainers  by  this  policy  in  the  minuteness  of  details  furnished 
by  such  negociators,  and  in  the  absence  of  all  affectation  of 
political  sagacity.  They  report  the  occurrences  of  the  hour 
and  the  day  with  a  laborious  fidelity,  which  is  of  the  utmost 
value  to  the  modern  historian,  and  forms  a  refreshing  contrast 
to  the  dry  and  pompous  formalities  of  later  diplomatists.  Of 
the   actions   and   personal    appearances    of  Maximilian   and 

'   From  the  20th  of  May,  1510,  to  ^  Soo     Index     to    Vol.    i.    of    tlu- 

the  3lBt  of  Oct.,  1512,  his  full  allow-  Calendar, 
ance  was  896i.     See  Calendar,  Vol.  ii.  '  I.  54G5. 

p.  1459. 


G8  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

Ferdinand,  of  the  movements  of  the  miconqnerahle  Julius, 
the  Cffisar  of  all  Pontiffs,  more  trustworthy  information  can 
be  gained  from  the  unpretending  reports  of  Wingfield,  Spinelly, 
or  even  Bainbridge,  than  from  any  other  sources. 

But  it  is  desirable  to  know  something,  not  merely  of 
ministers  and  ambassadors,  but  of  the  nation.  Of  what 
elements  were  the  people,  the  gentry,  the  nobility  composed  ? 
What  classes  were  now  on  their  way  to  promotion?  What 
changes  were  taking  place  in  social  life  ?  A  careful  study  of 
the  grants  from  the  Crown,  partly  enrolled  on  the  Patent 
Eolls,  but  many  of  them  only  recorded  in  the  Privy  Seals  and 
Signed  Bills  of  the  reign,  supplies  the  best  answer  to  these 
questions.  It  is  from  documents  such  as  these,  bald  and 
uninteresting  as  they  may  seem,  that  we  must  look  in  future 
for  any  light  on  the  history  of  the  English  gentry  and  of  that 
body  of  men  who  from  the  time  of  the  Reformation  have  been 
identified  with  all  the  great  constitutional  struggles  in  this 
country.  The  dissensions  which  ploughed  up  the  land  in  the 
previous  century  exterminated  with  few  exceptions  the  old 
race  of  nobility.  A  few,  like  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  still 
remained,  rather  as  fragments  of  their  ancient  grandeur,  to 
connect  the  era  of  the  Tudors  with  that  of  the  Plantagenets, 
than  in  the  full  integrity  of  their  might.  But  the  civil  wars 
turned  up  a  new  soil  to  the  surface,  from  which  all  the  great 
names  in  modern  history  have  sprung ;  and  the  cradle  of  the 
new  race  is  to  be  seen  in  these  Signed  Bills  and  Privy  Seals. 

This  will  be  understood  more  clearly  when  we  describe  the 
nature  of  the  information  which  these  documents  contain. 
Among  them  are  to  be  found  the  nominations  of  ambassadors, 
confirmations  of  treaties,  commissions,  summonses  for  Con- 
vocation and  Parliament,  creations  of  nobility,  conges  d'elire 
of  bishops,  abbots,  and  priors,  presentations  to  livings  and 
pensions,  stewardships  of  forests  and  manors,  distribution  of 
forfeited  lands,  appointments  at  court,  pensions,  lists  of 
sheriffs,  mortmain  licences,  wardships,  cancels  of  recog- 
nizances wrung  from  his  subjects  by  Henry  VII.,  licences  to 
import  and  export  merchandize,  to  beg  alms  for  the  redemption 
of  captives  and  the  like.  But  even  this  list  will  scarcely  convey 
to  the  reader  a  just  idea  of  the  significance  of  these  documents, 
unless  he  bear  in  mind  that  they  are  also  the  records  of  the  , 
personal  acts  of  the  Sovereign,  not  of  his  ministers.  No  other 
papers,  in  fact,  can  give  such  an  adequate  notion  of  the 
enormous  powers  of  the  Crown,  under  the  Tudors,  or  show 


1509-14.]      WEALTH   AND   POWER   OF   THE   SOVEREIGN.  69 

more  distinctlj^  the  steps  by  which  it  had  been  aggrandized 
under  Henry  YII.  Under  Henry  VHI.  the  patronage  and  the 
revenues  of  the  Crown  were  immense.  Besides  the  ordinary 
grant  of  tonnage  and  poundage,  the  expenses  of  the  King's 
household  were  provided  for  by  an  annual  grant  of  19,400Z., 
not  including  the  assignments  for  the  Wardrobe.  To  these 
must  be  added  the  sums  received  from  Lewis  XII.,  the  sub- 
sidies voted  to  the  King  in  various  years  by  the  Commons  and 
the  Convocation,  benevolences  exacted  under  the  title  of  free 
gifts,  and  loans  that  were  never  repaid.  Happily  these  were 
not  of  frequent  occurrence.  When,  however,  the  necessities 
of  the  Crown  were  urgent,  the  nobility  and  gentry  were  sent 
down  to  their  several  counties  to  stir  up  the  liberality  of  the 
inhabitants.  They  were  commanded  to  bring  up  their 
tenantry  and  the  neighbouring  towns  to  meet  together,  in 
order  to  determine  on  a  contribution  for  the  King,  and  each 
man's  quota.  A  troublesome  opponent  or  refractory  minority 
was  easily  controlled  by  a  threat  of  being  sent  to  London,  to 
state  their  objections  before  the  Privy  Council — a  threat  which 
generally  proved  effectual  in  silencing  opposition.  For  the 
expenditure  of  these  and  other  sums,  levied  on  the  nation,  the 
King  was  responsible  to  no  one.  He  had  no  control  beyond 
his  own  sense  of  right,  or  the  dread  of  unpopularity,  always  a 
potent  check  upon  the  Tudors.  Henry  VII.,  by  his  ministers 
Empson  and  Dudley,  imposed  fines,  upon  different  pretexts, 
under  the  names  of  recognizances,  with  what  justice  may  be 
seen  in  the  acts  of  his  son  and  successor.  The  early  pages  of 
the  Calendar  are  loaded  with  cancels  of  these  recognizances. 
In  more  than  one  instance,  the  writ  is  even  charged  with  a 
clause  that  such  recognizances  were  made  "  without  any  cause 
reasonable  or  lawful,  by  the  undue  means  of  certain  of  the 
learned  Council  of  our  late  father,  contrary  to  the  law,  reason, 
and  good  conscience,  to  the  manifest  charge  and  peril  of  the 
soul  of  our  late  father,  and  that  the  sums  contained  in  those 
recognizances  cannot  be  levied  without  the  evident  peril  of 
our  late  father's  soul,  which  we  would  for  no  earthly  riches 
see  nor  suffer."^ 

These  remarks,  however,  can  only  give  a  feeble  idea  of  the 
wealth  and  power  of  the  Sovereign.  Small  chance  as  there 
was  of  successful  opposition  to  his  wishes,  the  King  was  in 
some  measure  dependent  for  these  sources  of  his  revenue  on 
the  good  will  of  his  subjects.     There  were  others  for  whicli  lie 

•  1.  lOOi,  also' 1756,  «(/. 


70  THE   REIGN   OF   HENKY   VIII.  [A.D. 

was  not  dependent  upon  them  in  any  measure,  and  in  the 
employment  of  which  they  would  no  more  have  presumed  to 
express  an  opinion  than  he  would  have  thought  of  demanding 
it.  In  the  union  of  the  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster  in 
Henry  VII.,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that,  besides  a  union  of 
claims  to  the  Crown,  there  was  a  union  of  estates.  Before  this 
time  Yorkist  or  Lancastrian  had  to  supply  the  expense  and 
means  for  war  from  one-half  only  of  the  revenues  which  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Henry  VII.  The  lands  of  attainted  and 
rebellious  nobles  were  confiscated  to  the  Crown ;  the  estates 
of  a  Yorkist  increased  the  Crown  lands  of  a  Lancastrian,  the 
triumphant  Yorkist  retaliated  the  same  measure  on  his 
Lancastrian  opponent.  When  the  war  ended,  heirs  and 
claimants  had  died  off,  or  were  in  ill-favour  or  under  suspicion 
of  disaffection ;  and  even  when  the  attainted  lands  were 
restored,  some  portion  stuck  fast  in  the  transit ;  a  part  was 
voluntarily  surrendered  to  secure  the  remainder.  The  re- 
bellions under  Henry  VII.  added  greatly  to  these  acquisitions ; 
and  the  reader  has  only  to  turn  over  a  few  pages  of  the 
Calendar  to  see  how  the  Crown  lands  had  augmented  through- 
out the  length  and  breadth  of  England  by  the  attainders  of 
the  De  la  Poles,  the  Salisburies,  the  Charltons,  the  Empsons, 
and  the  Dudleys.  In  fact,  treason  was  more  profitable  to 
Henry  VII.  than  any  other  branch  of  his  revenue. 

Amidst  the  legal  and  state  fictions  of  this  day,  it  is  hard 
to  realize  the  true  position  of  a  Tudor  sovereign  in  the  six- 
teenth century.  The  lands  of  the  Crown,  by  whatever  means 
acquired,  were  as  much  in  the  King's  power  as  those  of  any 
other  landlord.  His  personal  management  and  control  of 
them  were  as  unlimited.  He  exchanged  them,  cut  down  the 
timber,  built  up  or  pulled  down,  appointed  stewards  or 
managers  as  he  pleased,  and  at  whatever  salary  he  pleased. 
The  revenues  he  derived  from  them  were  his  own,  to  employ 
or  waste  at  his  pleasure.  It  is  probable  that  this  vast  increase 
of  estates  under  the  first  Tudors  did  not  bring  a  proportionate 
increase  of  revenue ;  but  it  placed  the  power  and  supremacy 
of  the  King  on  a  footing  it  had  never  been  placed  on  before. 
It  afforded  him  numerous  opportunities  of  bestowing  lucrative 
appointments  on  his  courtiers.  He  had  at  his  own  immediate 
disposal  the  stewardships  of  forests,  manors,  chaces,  castles, 
fisheries,  and  mines  ;  the  collectorshij)s  of  customs  in  various 
ports  ;  nominations  to  churches  on  his  estates  ;  not  to  mention 
his  ancient  right  of  wardship  and  marriage,  which  now  sunk 


1509-14.]      WEALTH   AND   POWER   OF   THE   SOVEREIGN.  71 

into  an  insignificant  item  compared  with  the  more  splendid 
and  kicrative  ofdces  at  his  sole  disposal.  What  is  the  result  ? 
The  forests  and  chaces  maintained  a  numerous  and  hardy 
race  of  men,  trained  to  arms,  and  ready  for  the  King's  service 
at  any  time  he  should  deem  fit  to  employ  them.  They  formed 
a  standing  army  without  its  obnoxious  features ;  without  the 
dangers  to  which  standing  armies  are  subject,  of  becoming 
mischievous  weapons  in  the  hands  of  their  officers.  The 
appointment  of  customs  at  various  ports  was  not  only  a 
reward  for  past  services,  but  a  watch  on  the  loyalty  and 
disaffection  of  the  towns,  and  the  indirect  means  for  trans- 
mitting important  information  of  foreign  or  domestic  insurrec- 
tions. Even  wardshij)s  were  not  without  their  uses  in  this 
respect ;  for  the  King  could,  as  we  have  positive  evidence  that 
he  did,  entrust  to  those  of  whose  fidelity  he  had  no  suspicion 
the  wardship,  training,  and  marriage  of  the  sons  and  daughters 
of  disaffected  families.  Of  course,  appointments  of  ambas- 
sadors, commissions  in  the  army  and  navy,  had  been  in  his 
gift  from  time  immemorial ;  but  now,  in  consequence  of  the 
vast  augmentation  of  the  Crown  lands,  he  could  supplement 
the  small  wages  attached  to  such  employments  by  some 
lucrative  post  on  the  royal  estates. 

It  may  be  thought  that,  after  all,  Henry  would  be  guided 
by  his  ministers  ;  that  he  could  know  nothing  or  little  of  the 
hundreds  of  claimants  on  his  bount3\  As  an  answer  to  that 
objection,  we  find  among  the  warrants  to  the  Treasurer  of  the 
Chamber,^  signed  by  the  King,  one  in  favour  of  William 
Wynesbury,  his  Lord  of  Misrule,  directing  the  treasurer  to 
pay  him  51.,  "  upon  a  prest,  (i.e.  as  an  advance)  towards  his 
reward  for  his  business  against  this  Christmas  next  ensuing." 
But  annexed  to  the  above  is  a  note  from  the  petitioner  to  the 
following  effect : — "  If  it  shall  like  your  Grace  to  give  me  too 
much,  I  will  give  you  none  again ;  and  if  your  Grace  give 
me  too  little,  I  will  ask  more."  An  indication  of  the  freedom 
with  which  Henry  sometimes  allowed  himself  to  be  addressed, 
for  he  granted  the  petition  ;  and  still  more,  of  the  petitioner's 
conviction  tliat  the  writ  would  be  read  by  the  King. 

But  we  have  better  evidence  than  this.  On  examinhig 
these  appointments,  it  is  remarkable  how  many  of  them  are 
made  to  those  who  are  or  have  been  in  personal  attendance 
on  the  Sovereign.  Scarcely  any  man  holds  an  office  of  import- 
ance who  is  not  familiarly  known  to  the  King.    The  Howards, 

'  Dated  Dec.  9,  1509. 


72  THE  EEIGN  OF   HENRY    VIH.  [A.D. 

the  Brandoos,  the  Jerninghams,  the  Sydneys,  the  Plantagenets, 
the  Sherbornes,  the  FitzwilHams,  the  Marneys,  were  or  had 
all  been  squh-es  or  knights  of  the  Body  or  gentlemen  of  the 
Chamber.  The  King's  patronage  naturally  flows  in  this 
direction ;  and  we  have  this  curious  result,  that  not  only  all 
great  and  important  offices  in  the  army,  the  navy,  and  all 
influential  departments  of  the  State,  are  filled  by  men  who 
have  been  in  personal  attendance  on  the  King,  but  that  the 
exclusive  road  to  promotion  is  dependent  on  this  personal 
service.  No  minister  dispenses  or  even  shares  the  patronage 
of  the  Crown  ;  he  may  recommend,  but  evidently  that  recom- 
mendation is  confined  within  the  narrow  circle  of  those  who 
are  already  known  to  the  Sovereign  by  personal  and  assiduous 
service.  All  this  has  changed  the  King's  position,  and  vastly 
augmented  his  power.  Unlike  the  old  haughty  nobility,  who 
kept  a  jealous  watch  over  the  powers  of  the  Crown,  and,  in  the 
absence  of  constitutional  restraints,  acted  as  a  check  upon 
the  undue  extension  of  its  prerogatives,  the  ministers  under 
the  Tudors,  taken  from  a  lower  rank,  looked  up  to  the  Crown 
and  the  extension  of  its  authority  as  a  support  for  their  own. 
They  are  the  servants  of  the  Crown,  an  epithet  which  the 
ancient  nobility  of  a  past  age  would  have  rejected  with  disdain, 
as  they  w^ould  have  rejected  that  subordination  which  it 
signified. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  for  me  to  point  the  moral  suggested 
by  these  remarks.     It  begins  to  shape  itself  in  the  dim  vision 
of  the  past,  and  the  confusion  of  the  civil  wars.     As  it  drifts 
along  the  current  of  events,  it  assumes  more  gigantic  and 
more  definite  proportions.     War,   peace,   and  even  rebellion 
force  the  consideration  of  it  on  the  minds  of  men.     It  flits  in 
dim  consciousness  across  the  thoughts  of  devout  men  like  Fox 
in  their  struggle  between  loyalty  and  conscience.     It  stings 
fierce  men  into  treason,  and  thoughtful  men  into  disobedience. 
Even  the  passions  of  men  and  the  policy  of  kings,  with  no 
higher  object  than  their  own  selfish  interests,  become  instru- 
mental to  its  develo]3ment.     The  ecclesiastics  who  surrounded 
the  throne  of  Henry  VII.  and  Henry  VIII.,  and  sanctioned 
with   their  presence  and   authority  the    acts   of  both  those 
monarchs,  invested  royalty  with  a  spiritual  influence  in  the 
minds  of  the  people  which  could  not  be  disintegrated  from  it, 
or  resumed  when  the  Kings  changed  their  religious  princij)les, 
and  dismissed  their  spiritual  ministers.     The  royal  supremacy 
w^as  now  to  triumph  after  years  of  efl'orts  apparently  fruitless 


1509-14.]  THE   KOYAL   SUPREMACY.  73 

and  often  purposeless.  That  which  had  been  present  to  the 
Endish  mind  for  centuries  was  now  to  come  forth  in  distinct 
consciousness  armed  with  a  power  which  nothing  could  resist. 
Yet  that  it  should  come  forth  in  such  a  form  is  marvellous. 
All  events  had  prepared  the  way  for  the  king's  temporal 
supremacy.  Opposition  to  papal  authority  was  familiar  to 
men  ;  but  a  spiritual  supremacy,  an  ecclesiastical  headship, 
as  it  separated  Henry  VIII.  from  all  his  predecessors  by  an 
immeasm-able  interval,  so  was  it  without  precedent  and  at 
variance  with  all  tradition.  Fools  could  raise  objections,  the 
wisest  could  hardly  catch  a  glimpse  of  its  profound  significance. 


74  THE   REIGN   OP   HENRY   VUI.  [A.D. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SUFFOLK   AND    MARY— DESIGNS    OF    FRANCIS   I. 

The  political  fabric  reared  by  Wolsey  with  so  much  labour, 
skill,  and  perseverance,  fell  to  the  ground  at  the  death  of 
Lewis  XII.     By  the  marriage  of  the  Princess  Mary  with  Lewis 
the  policy  of  the  treaty  of  Cambray  had  been  turned  back 
upon  its  authors.     One  chief  object  of  that  policy  had  been, 
as  explained  already,  to  shut  out  England  from  all  interference 
in  continental  politics  ;  to  render  France,  in  effect,  the  dictator 
of  Europe  ;  and,  what  in  those  days  was    scarcely  less  im- 
portant for  this  purpose,  to  leave  the  Pope  entirely  dependent 
on   the  will   of  the   Christian  King.     But  by  this  marriage 
alliance  Wolsey  had  contrived,  under  the  semblance   of  an 
equal  partition  of  authority,  to  make  England  in  reality  pre- 
dominant.    So  it  was  felt  to  be  by  Lewis  himself,  and  more 
so  by  his  successor.    The  feeble  health  of  the  King,  prematurely 
a.ged,^  and  shorn  of  his  due  influence  by  this  new  affinity,  was 
no  match  for  the  ambition  of  Henry  or  the  genius  and  vigour 
of  Wolsey,  now  in  the  prime  of  his  life.^     Ferdinand,  advanced 
in  years,  and  not  less  a  martyr  to  sickness,  was  contented  to 
let  things  take  their  course,  provided  he  was  not  molested  in 
his  own  dominions,  and  his  new  conquest  of  Navarre  was  not 
called  in  question.     Maximilian,  penniless,  fertile  in  devices 
for  raising  money  too  transparent  to  deceive,  and  never  a 
penny  the  richer,  even  when  his  plots  were  successful,  was  a 
greater  terror  to  his  friends  than  to  his  enemies.     No  prince 

*  In  that  age  life  wasted  and  waned  extreme  age  in  the  wasted  face  and 

apace.     Men  were  old  and  worn  out  at  neck,  the  long  bony  fingers  and  feeble- 

60.     Lewis  XII.  did  not  live  to  com.  ness  of  their  grasp,  died  at  the  early 

plete  his  54th  year,  and  was  a  wreck,  age    of  52,    completely    worn    out    in 

not     merely    by    the    report   of    his  mind  and  body.     The  fearful  excite- 

enemies,  but   by  his  own  admissions  ment  throiigh  which  they  had  passed 

to  Suffolk  and  others.     Francis  I.  died  told   heavily    upon    them  ; — like    men 

at  53  ;  Maximilian  at  60 ;   Charles  V.  who  had  struggled  and  buffeted  for 

at  59.     Wolsey,  who  passed  for  "an  life  in  a  stormy  sea,  and  saved  it  only 

old  man  broken  with  the  storms  of  to  drag  out  a  few  weary  years  on  dry 

State,"  even  before  his  fall,   died   at  land. 

55.  More  remarkable  still,  Hem-y  VII.,  ^  He  was  only  40  or  41. 
whose  portraits  show   indications   of 


1515.]  ENGLAND'S   MOMENTARY   ASCENDENCY.  75 

had  grander  schemes,  or  less  ahihtj^  and  perseverance.  Ready 
to  pawn  the  Holy  Eoman  Empire  to  the  highest  hidder,  it  was 
fortunate  for  the  tranquillity  of  Europe  that  none  of  the 
Frescobaldi  or  Fuggers  of  that  age  would  advance  the  money 
on  any  security  Maximilian  could  offer.  Nominally  the 
governor  of  his  grandson  Charles,  he  possessed  no  real  in- 
fluence. Grandson  and  ministers  were  alike  deaf  to  his 
entreaties  for  money,  and  jealous  of  the  interference  of 
Margaret  of  Savoy,  who  furthered  his  schemes  with  the 
adroitness  of  a  female  politician  and  the  fidelity  of  a  daughter. 

So  the  triumph  of  Wolsey  was  complete.  For  his  triumph 
it  was,  and  none  ventured  to  dispute  his  claim.  It  was  his 
first  great  effort  at  diplomacy  ;  and  his  influence  dated  from 
that  effort.  With  what  prudence  and  ingenuity  he  had 
mastered  the  difficulties  that  stood  in  his  way  cannot  be  told. 
He  had  to  overcome  the  reluctance  of  Mary  herself,  even  at 
that  time  attached  to  Suffolk,  and  break  off  her  engagement 
with  Charles.  This  was  but  a  small  part  of  his  task.  It  was 
not  to  be  expected  that  Francis  would  submit  without  a 
struggle  to  a  match  which  imperilled  his  succession.  The 
difficulties  were  greater  at  home.  Any  union  with  France  was 
unpopular;  it  was  not  acceptable  even  to  those  councillors 
who  shared  the  King's  confidence.  The  old  nobility,  rej^resented 
by  Norfolk,^  opposed  it ;  and  the  more  so  as  Wolsey's  success 
sealed  his  supremacy  and  their  downfall. 

The  debates  upon  this  marriage  and  the  alliance  with 
France  had  given  rise  to  a  mortal  struggle  in  the  Privy 
Council  between  the  old  party  and  the  new,  of  which  only 
feeble  indications  have  reached  us.  Would  the  King  yield  to 
this  new  influence  and  new  nobility,  of  whom  Suffolk  was  the 
chief,  or  would  he  continue  his  old  advisers  ?  The  struggle 
had  ended  in  a  triumph  for  Wolsey,  to  be  dissipated  by  the 
death  of  Lewis  XII.  The  powers  of  confusion  were  again 
abroad.  A  powerful  minority,  irritated  by  defeat,  had  resolved 
once  more  to  strike  for  supremacy.  Matters  abroad  wore  a 
gloomier  aspect ; — a  young  sovereign  on  the  throne  of  France, 

'  "  Would  God  my  Lord  of   York  Norfolk  and  his  son,  to  whom  it  was 

(Wolsoy)    had   come  with   me  in    the  owinfi^  that  Mary's  servants  wore  dis- 

room  of  my  Lord  of  Norfolk,  for  then  char<,fod   on  their  arrival  in  Paris  bo- 

I   am   sure    I    slioiild  have    been  left  cause  they  were  of  Wolsey's  choosinpr, 

much  more  at  my  heart's  ea.«e  than  I  not  theirs.     It  is  wortli  ohservinf,'  tliat 

am  now." — Mary  to  Henry   VIJL,  I.  at  the  tournament  Iioid  at  the  Knwieli 

5488.     And  in   I.   5512    Suffolk   tells  court  in  Jionour  of  Mary's  murriuKe, 

Wolsey    that    he    will    perceive    the  no    mention   occurs    of    any    of    tho 

hostile    intentions    of    the    Duke    of  Ilowards. 


76  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENEY  VIII.  [A.li 

full  of  ardent  hopes  and  ambition,  the  darling  of  all  the  daring 
and  restless  spirits  of  the  age,  despised  the  English  alliance  ; 
— Charles  and  his  ministers  were  sulky  and  offended, — Fer- 
dinand old  and  distrustful, — Maximilian  ready  to  sell  himself, 
his  lance-knechts,  and  the  Swiss,  to  work  for  pay,  plunder, 
or  conquest ; — war  gloomed  in  all  directions  and  in  all  forms. 
Who  was  to  ride  the  storm,  and  manage  the  elements  ? — that 
was  the  question,  which  every  man  asked,  and  each  one 
answered  in  his  own  way. 

This  struggle,  productive  of  so  many  momentous  conse- 
quences, drew  Suffolk  and  Wolsey  closely  together.  The  first 
thing  to  be  done  was  to  send  an  embassy,  and  congratulate 
Francis  I.  on  his  accession.  At  the  head^of  it  was  the  Duke 
of  Suffolk,  who  had  only  returned  from  France  six  weeks 
before.  The  deputation  arrived  at  Senlis  on  Saturday  the 
27th  of  January.^  Francis  was  then  at  Eheims  for  his 
"  sacring,"  and  desired  the  ambassadors  to  meet  him  at 
Noyon  on  Thursday,  Candlemas  eve.  No  reception  could  be 
more  gracious  or  condescending.  He  gave  them  hearty 
welcome ;  asked  lovingly  after  the  health  of  the  king  and  the 
queen,  expressed  his  pleasure  at  this  renewal  of  the  good 
understanding  between  the  two  countries,  and  appointed  a 
formal  audience  for  Friday,  February  2.  That  day  West, 
afterwards  Bishop  of  Ely,  made  a  Latin  harangue,  a  weari- 
some and  indispensable  part  in  such  ceremonials.  He 
enlarged  on  the  virtues  and  qualities  of  a  good  ruler,  and  con- 
cluded by  expressing  a  hope  that  the  future  conduct  of  Francis 
would  be  conformable  to  the  promises  he  had  made,  when 
Duke  of  Angouleme.  To  his  livelier  audience  the  speech  had 
too  much  the  air  of  a  homily ;  but  they  were  civil  enough  to 
say  that  the  matter  was  good,  and  the  Latin  elegant,  Francis 
thanked  the  deputation  for  their  compliments,  and  alluded  to 
the  death  of  his  predecessor.  They  had  good  reason,  he  said, 
to  be  sorry,  "forasmuch  as  the  late  King  had  married  the 
Princess  Mary,  of  which  marriage,"  he  said,  "  he  was  a  great 
cause,  trusting  that  it  should  have  long  endured."  In  their 
reply  the  ambassadors  thanked  the  King  in  their  master's 
name  for  the  singular  comfort  he  had  given  Mary  in  this 
season  of  her  affliction,  calling  to  his  mind  "how  lovingly  he 
had  written  to  Henry,  by  his  last  letters,  that  he  would  neither 
do  her  wrong,  nor  suffer  her  to  take  wrong  of  any  other 
person,  but  be  to  her  as  a  loving  son  should  be  to  his  mother." 

'  II.  105. 


1515.]  FRANCIS   I.   AND   SUFFOLK.  77 

Francis  answered,  "  lie  could  do  no  less  for  his  honour,  seeing 
that  she  was  Henry's  sister,  a  nohle  princess  married  to  his 
predecessor ;  "  and  he  expressed  a  hope  that  she  would  write 
to  England,  and  report,  "  how  lovingly  he  had  behaved  to 
her."     Thus  ended  the  public  audience. 

The  same  day,  sending  for  the  Duke  into  his  bedchamber, 
Francis  thus  addressed  him  :  "  My  Lord  of  Suffolk,  so  it  is 
that  there  is  a  bruit  in  this  my  realm  that  you  are  come  to 
marry  with  the  queen,  your  master's  sister."  Utterly  taken 
aback  by  this  announcement,  it  was  in  vain  that  the  discomfited 
Suffolk  stammered  oat  a  denial,  and  protested  he  had  no  such 
intentions.  In  the  utmost  confusion,  he  entreated  the  King 
not  to  impute  to  him  so  great  a  folly  as  to  come  into  a  strange 
realm  and  marry  a  Queen  there  without  the  consent  of  the 
Sovereign,  "  I  ensure  your  grace,"  he  added,  "  I  have  no  such 
purpose,  nor  it  was  ever  intended  on  the  King  my  master's 
behalf,  nor  on  mine."  Francis  replied,  that  if  Suffolk  would 
not  be  plain  \^ith  him  he  must  be  i^lain  with  the  Duke  ;  and 
then  proceeded  to  inform  him  that  Mary  herself  had  broken 
the  matter  to  him,  and  he  for  his  part  had  promised  "  on  his 
faith  and  truth,  and  by  the  troth  of  a  King,"  that  he  would  do 
his  best  to  help  her.  He  then  detailed  certain  secrets  which 
had  passed  between  Mary  and  Suffolk,^  calling  up  the  deepest 
crimson  into  Suffolk's  face.  "  And  when,"  continues  Suffolk, 
describing  the  interview  to  Wolsey,  "  he  had  done  thys,  I  cold 
do  non  lyes  but  to  thanke  hes  grace  for  the  greth  godues  that 
his  grace  in  tynded  to  schaw  unto  the  quyene  and  me ;  how 
by  et  (howbeit)  I  schowd  hes  grace  that  I  was  lyke  to  by  ondon 
(to  be  undone)  if  the  matter  schold  coume  to  the  knollag  of 
the  kyng  me  masster."  Francis  reassured  him  ;  told  him  to 
be  under  no  apprehension,  for  as  soon  as  ever  he  reached 
Paris  he  would  see  the  Queen,  and  then  both  should  write 
letters  with  their  own  hand  to  Henry  "  in  the  best  manner 
that  could  be  devised."  Suffolk  concluded  by  expressing  his 
satisfaction  at  what  had  passed  :  "  My  Lord,"  he  says,  repeat- 
ing the  conversation  to  Wolsey,  "  after  mine  opinion,  I  find 
myself  much  bounden  to  God,  considering  that  he  that  I  feared 
most  is  contented  to  be  the  doer  of  this  act  himself,  and  to 


give   yon  in  yonr  hand  my  faitli  and 
troth,  by  tho  word  of  a  Kinijr,  that  I 


*   "  The  which  I  knew  no  man  alive 

could  tell  them  but  she ;  and  when  he  ,     ,  ,.11 

told  them  I  was  abashed,  and  he  saw  shall  never  fail  her  or  you,  but  to  help 

it,   and  said  :    '  Bo  not  disturbed,  for  and  advance  this  matter  betwixt  her 

you  shall  say  that  you  have  found  a  and  you  with  as  good  a  will  aa  1  would 

kind  friend  and  a  loving  ;  and  because  for  mine  own  self.'  " 
you  shall  not  think  no  wrong  of  her,  I 


78  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   YIIT.  [A.D. 

instance  the  King  my  master  in  the  same  for  me,  whereby  his 
grace  shall  be  marvellously  discharged,  as  well  against  his 
council  as  all  the  other  noblemen  in  his  realm." 

Wolsey's  reply  to  this  letter  is  of  so  much  importance  to 
the  clear  understanding  of  this  strangest  of  all  negociations 
that  I  venture  to  insert  it  entire.  The  draft  only  remains  at 
the  Record  Office.  The  words  in  italics  were  inserted  by 
Wolsey  himself. 

"  My  Lord, 

' '  In  my  most  hearty  manner  I  recommend  me  unto  your  good 
Lordship,  and  have  received  your  letter  written  with  your  own  hands, 
dated  at  Paris  ^  the  3rd  day  of  this  month,  and  as  joyous  I  am,  as  any 
creature  Kving,  to  hear  as  well  of  your  honorable  entertainment  with  the 
French  king,  and  of  his  loving  mind  towards  you  for  your  marriage  with 
the  French  queen,  our  master's  sister,  as  also  of  his  kind  ofier  made  unto 
you,  that  both  he  and  the  said  French  queen  shall  effectually  write  unto 
the  king's  grace  for  the  obtaining  of  his  good  will  and  favour  unto  the 
same.  The  contents  of  which  your  letter  I  have  at  good  leisure  declared 
unto  the  king's  highness,  and  his  grace  marvellously  rejoiced  to  hear  of 
your  good  speed  in  the  same,  and  how  substantially  and  discretely  ye 
ordered  and  handled  yourself  in  your  words  and  yoin*  communication 
with  the  said  French  king,  when  he  first  secretly  brake  with  you  of  the 
said  marriage.  And  therefore,  my  Lord,  the  king  and  I  think  it  good 
that  ye  procure  and  solicit  the  speedy  sending  unto  his  grace  of  the  letters 
from  the  said  French  king  touching  this  matter,  assuring  you  that  the  King 
continueth  firmly  in  his  good  mind  and  purpose  towards  you,  fur  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  said  marriage,  albeit  that  there  he  daily  on  every  side 
practices  made  to  the  let  of  the  same,  ivhich  I  have  withstanded  hitherto,  and 
doubt  not  so  to  do  till  ye  shall  have  achieved  your  intended  purpose  ;  and  ye 
shall  say,  by  that  time  that  ye  know  all,  that  ye  have  had  of  me  a  fast  friend. 

"The  king's  grace  sends  unto  you  at  this  time  not  only  his  especial 
letters  of  thanks  unto  the  French  king  for  the  loving  and  kind  entertain- 
ment of  you  and  the  other  ambassadors  with  you,  and  for  his  favorable 
audience  given  unto  you  and  them,  but  also  other  letters  of  thanks  to  the 
queen  his  wife,  and  to  other  personages  specified  in  your  letter  jointly 
sent  with  the  other  ambassadors  to  the  king's  grace.  And  his  Highness 
is  of  no  less  mind  and  affection  than  the  French  king  is  for  the  con- 
tinuance of  good  peace  and  amity  betwixt  them.  And  his  grace  will 
favourably  hear  such  ambassadors  as  the  said  French  king  shall  send 
hither  to  commune  and  treat  upon  the  same  :  and  upon  the  overture  of 
their  charges  ye  shall  be  with  all  diligence  made  privy  thereunto.  The 
Lady  of  Suffolk  is  departed  out  of  this  present  life  ;  and  over  this,  my  Lord, 
the  king's  grace  hath  granted  unto  you  all  such  lands  as  be  come  into  his 
hands  by  the  decease  of  the  said  Lady  of  Suffolk  ;  and  also  by  my  pursuit 
hath  given  unto  you  the  lordship  of  Claxton,  which  his  highness  had  of 
my  Lord  Admiral  for  1,000  marks,  which  he  did  owe  to  his  grace. 

"And  finally,  my  Lord,  whereas  ye  desired  at  your  departing  to  have 
an  harness  made  for  you,  the  king's  grace  hath  willed  me  to  write  unto 
you,  that  he  saith  that  it  is  impossible  to  make  a  perfect  headjsiece  for 
you,  unless  that  the  manner  of  the  making  of  your  sight  were  assuredly 
known.  And  because  I  am  no  cunning  clerk  to  describe  the  plainness  of 
such  a  thing,  inasmuch  as  ye  shall  perceive  by  this  my  writing  what  the 
matter  meaneth,  ye  may  make  answer  to  the  king's  [grace]  upon  the  same, 
like  as  ye  shall  think  good. 

An  error  for  Senlis. 


loio.]  FRANCIS'   ENTRY  INTO   PARIS.  79 

^^  And  whereas  ye  write  that  the  French  king  is  of  no  less  good  will 
totvards  me  than  Iiis  predecessor  was,  I  pray  you  to  thank  his  grace  for  the 
same,  and  to  offer  him  7ny  poor  service,  which,  next  my  master,  shall  have 
mine  heart  for  the  good  will  and  mind  which  he  heareth  to  you  ;  beseeching 
you  to  have  my  affairs  recommended,  and  that  I  may  have  some  end  in  the 
same,  one  way  or  other.  And  thus  for  lack  of  more  leisure  I  hid  you  most 
heartily  fareu-eJl ,  hescechitig  yon  to  have  me  recommended  to  the  queen^s  grace. 

"  From  my  house  besides  IVestmiiister." 

Suffolk  and  bis  fellows  went  on  to  Paris,  and  arrived  there 
on  February  4.  Tbe  King  stayed  bebind  at  Compiegne  to 
give  audience  to  tbe  ambassadors  sent  by  Cbarles,  Prince  of 
Castile,  for  a  marriage  between  himself  and  Madame  Pienee, 
tbe  youngest  daughter  of  Lewis  XII, ,  then  four  years  old. 
Ferdinand,  the  old  King  of  Spain,  with  unwise  rivalry  had 
demanded  her  hand,  at  the  same  time,  for  the  Infant  Ferdinand, 
thus  early  fomenting  a  misunderstanding  between  the  two 
brothers.  On  the  13th,  Francis  made  his  entry  into  Paris. 
"  M.  de  Nassau  and  M.  de  St.  Py,"  says  Gattinara,  who  was 
present  on  the  occasion,  writing  to  Margaret  of  Savoy — 

"were  on  a  scaffold,  with  the  queen  and  the  ladies  to  view  the  sight  ; 
and  on  the  same  scaffold  were  the  duke  of  Suffolk  and  the  deputy  of 
Calais  (Wingfield),  who  have  left  off  their  mourning  ;  and  we  others  were 
in  a  hoiise,  and  looked  out  of  the  windows  at  the  pageant.  Very  near  us, 
in  another  house,  was  the  queen  widow  (Mary),  and  certes,  Madame,  the 
entry  was  fine  and  sumptuous.  First  came  the  archers  of  the  town,  a 
goodly  number,  all  with  their  habits  of  goldsmith's  work  of  one  pattern  ; 
then  the  eschevins  and  governors  of  the  town,  all  attired  in  black  velvet, 
with  a  great  train  of  people  ;  after  them,  the  crafts,  dressed  in  silks,  and 
all  on  horseback  ;  then  the  foot  soldiers  of  the  town  in  great  number, 
dressed  en  Suisse  ;  then  the  provost  on  horseback  and  the  town  councillors, 
in  scarlet ;  and  next  his  archers,  bedizened  with  goldsmith's  work  ;  after 
them  "  la  Justice  du  Chastellet,"  with  a  dozen  councillors  in  scarlet  and 
fur  hooda  {chaperons) ;  then  the  general  of  the  finances,  followed  by  the 
accountants,  in  cloth  of  silk  and  splendid  furs  ;  then  80  members  of  the 
court  of  parliament,  in  scarlet,  with  their  hoods  on  their  shoulders,  and 
the  four  presidents,  with  their  mantles  and  hoods,  and  caps  on  their 
heads,  clothed  in  the  same  manner  as  I  am,  when  we  pronounce  our 
arrets.  After  a  short  interval  followed  200  pensionai'ies,  all  armed  and 
trapped,  accoutred  and  covered,  both  horse  and  man,  with  cloth  of  gold 
of  various  fashions  and  devices  ; — a  sight  very  gorgeous  to  behold.  Next 
followed  the  Swiss  Guard  ;  then  the  old  knights  of  the  Order,  armed, 
trapped,  and  accoutred  with  cloth  of  gold  ;  amongst  whom  I  recognized 
M.  de  Piennes,  M.  de  Bussy  d'Amboise  the  elder,  M.  de  Champdenyer,  and 
M.  des  Chanes.  Then  came  the  ushers  of  the  Chancery  in  great  innnber, 
and  the  masters  of  re(juests,  attired  in  l)lack  velvet  fuiTcd  with  hi  ires; 
then  a  horse  by  itself,  which  carried  the  little  casket  of  the  seal,  set  upon 
a  cushion  on  the  saddle,  which  was  of  blue  velvet  sprinkled  with  Jleurs  de 
lis  of  gold  ;  then  came  the  Chancellor,  wearing  over  his  crimson  robe  a 
scarlet  cloak,  cut  on  both  sides  in  a  difi'ereiit  manner  from  those  of  the 
others,  and  a  different  cap  on  his  head.  Afterwards  came  the  jtage.s  and 
the  equerry  of  the  king,  all  dressed  in  white,  jiartly  in  velvet  and  partly 
in  silver  cloth  ;  and  the  liorses,  all  Si>anish,  were  also  accoutred  in  white  ; 
then  the  trumpeters,  the  heralds,  and  the  kings  of  arms,  in  white  silk 


80  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   YIII.  [A.D. 

robes,  bearing  their  coats  of  arms  ;  next  the  king,  armed,  upon  his  barbed 
horse,  wholly  accoutred  in  white  and  in  cloth  of  silver.  The  king  did  not 
keep  under  the  canopy  (pale),  but  displayed  his  horsemanship  by  con- 
tinually curvetting  and  prancing.  And  there  were  good  horses  and  riders 
who  did  marvels  to  attract  the  notice  of  the  ladies.  After  the  king,  and 
behind  the  canopy,  came  the  princes  of  the  blood,  so  richly  accoutred, 
mounted,  and  barbed,  that  I  know  not  how  to  describe  them.  Then  came 
the  200  gentlemen  of  the  king's  household  ;  all  armed  and  barbed  in 
divers  colours,  some  more  richly  than  others,  and  they  marched  in  troops 
and  in  battalions,  with  their  Linces  on  their  thighs,  and  morions  on  their 
heads.  Finally  came  the  400  archers  of  the  guard,  all  armed  and  bearing 
lances. 

"  After  the  king's  servants  had  passed,  we  waited  to  see  the  queen 
pass  as  she  returned  to  the  palace.  First  came  20  horses  of  the  duke  of 
Suffolk's  servants,  all  attired  in  grey  damask,  with  many  of  M.  de  Nassau's 
gentlemen  ;  next  those  of  his  household  and  of  his  litter,  with  M.  de 
Nassau  and  M.  de  Sainct  Py  in  front.  The  queen's  litter  followed,  with 
the  queen  and  Madame  d'Angouleme.  In  another  litter  were  Madame 
Renee  and  the  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Longueville  lately  deceased,  and 
another  young  lady.  A  third  litter  contained  the  old  Madame  de  Bourbon 
and  the  young  Madame  d'Alengon,  sister  to  the  king.  Five  other  litters 
followed.  After  these  came  the  acquinees  to  the  number  of  24  ;  the  first 
14  ladies  being  dressed  in  cloth  of  gold,  the  others  in  various  fashions. 
The  duke  of  Suffolk  spoke  as  he  walked  with  the  fii'st  of  the  said  ladies, 
who  some  say  was  the  Duchess  of  Longueville.  Next  followed  tlu"ee 
chariots  iilled  with  ladies. 

"  This  evening  a  banquet  was  held  in  the  palace,  in  which  M.M.  de 
Nassau  and  Sainct  Py  supped  with  the  King.  The  ambassador  of  the 
Pope  sate  next  the  king  on  his  right  hand,  then  the  duke  of  Suffolk,  M. 
de  Nassau,  the  deputy  of  Calais,  and  M.  de  Sainct  Py,  the  Venetian 
ambassador,  and  no  more.  On  the  left  hand  were  seated  : — M.  d'Alengon, 
M.  de  Bourbon,  his  brother  who  was  made  duke,  M.  de  Lorraine,  M.  de 
Vendome,  who  has  also  lately  been  made  duke,  and  others,  whom  I  have 
forgotten ,  as  I  was  not  there.    The  banquet  is  said  to  have  been  sumptuous. 

"  This  morning  M.  de  Nassau  was  told  that  an  answer  would  be  given 
us  to-day,  which  has  not  been  the  case.  The  king  has  caused  the  English 
embassy  to  go  to  him  ;  and  the  grand  master,  M.  de  Boissy,  M.  de  Bussy 
the  elder,  and  three  or  four  great  personages,  have  gone  to  accompany 
and  conduct  them,  which  it  is  not  the  custom  to  do  until  after  the  first 
audience.  This  appears  to  be  done  in  order  to  make  us  advance  ;  but  as 
we  do  not  know  the  wishes  of  our  master,  the  king  and  his  council  will 
perhaps  think  we  have  come  only  to  entertain  them. 
''Paris,  16  Feb.  1515. 

"  I  forgot  to  say  that  at  the  entry  there  were  a  great  number  of  eccle- 
siastics, and  more  than  300  Cordeliers,  without  mentioning  the  other 
Orders  ;  for  after  the  king  had  caught  sight  of  them,  they  were  made  pass 
thi'ough  other  streets  where  the  men-at  arms  did  not  come." 

There  were  anxious  hearts  at  the  gay  ceremony.  On  the 
Tuesday  previous  Suffolk  had  paid  his  first  visit  to  Mary. 
To  his  inquiries  of  the  French  King's  behaviour,  she  replied, 
in  general  terms,  as  if  evading  the  question,  that  he  had  been 
in  hand  with  her  about  many  matters,  but  on  hearing  of 
Suffolk's  arrival  had  promised  to  desist,  praying  her  not  to 
disclose  what  he  had  said  to  her,  either  to  the  King  or  Suffolk; 
"  for  because  your  grace  (Henry)  should  not  take  none  un- 


1515.]  MARY  AND   FEANCIS   I.  81 

kindness  therein."  Suflfolk  would  fain  have  persuaded  himself 
that  Francis  had  observed  his  promise:  "I  think,"  says  the 
Duke,  writing  to  Henry,^  "hen'old  do  anything  that  should 
discontent  your  grace ;  or  else  I  will  say  that  he  is  the  most 
untrue  man  that  lives."  The  same  day  the  Duke  wrote  to 
Wolsey,^  to  say  he  had  been  in  hand  with  Mary  to  ascertain 
the  nature  of  the  communications  between  her  and  Francis, 
of  which  he  had  written  in  his  last ;  and  she  had  confessed 
that  Francis  had  used  importunities  that  made  her  "  so  wearv 
and  so  afeard  "  he  would  try  to  ruin  Suffolk,  that  she  had 
thought  it  best  to  be  candid,  and  had  said  to  him  :  "  Sir,  I 
beseech  you  that  you  will  let  me  alone,  and  speak  no  more  to 
me  of  these  matters ;  and  if  you  will  promise  me  by  your  faith 
and  truth,  and  as  you  are  a  true  prince,  that  you  will  keep  it 
counsel  and  help  me,  I  will  tell  you  all  my  whole  mind."  On 
his  promise  of  secrecy,  Mary  avowed  her  engagement,  to 
Suffolk,  begging  the  King  to  have  pity  and  mitigate  her 
brother's  displeasure. 

Once  already  she  had  been  sacrificed  to  political  considera- 
tions, and  might  reasonably  apprehend  that  the  promises 
made  her  by  Henry  would  not  be  permitted  to  take  effect,  if 
an  eligible  match  were  demanded  by  the  nation,  or  dictated 
by  national  expediency.  Henry  was  aware  of  her  affection  for 
Suffolk  before  her  late  portentous  union  with  Lewis.  He  had 
promised  her,  when  she  parted  with  him  "  at  the  water  side,"^ 
that  if,  to  oblige  him,  she  would  marry  Lewis  this  time,  she 
should  be  permitted  on  the  next  occasion  to  do  "  as  she  hst."^ 
But  besides  her  brother's  good  will,  the  consent  of  others  had 
to  be  gained,  "  hinderers,"  as  she  calls  them,  and  enemies  to 
the  man  she  loved,  who  would  not  scruple  to  retard  his 
advancement.  Her  marriage  was  the  topic  of  conversation  in 
every  com*t  of  Europe ;  political  agents  and  ambassadors 
canvassed  the  chances  of  this  or  that  suitor  for  the  Fair 
Queen,  La  Roijne  Blanche,  as  she  was  commonly  called, 
whose  hand  was  eagerly  sought  for  its  own  sake,  and  not  less 
for  the  prospective  advantages  it  held  out  in  the  uncertainty 
of  Henry's  issue.  What  was  the  nature  of  the  offers  made 
her  by  Francis,  whose  Queen  ^  had  been  ah-eady  consigned  to 

'  Feb.  8.     II.  133.  livery  ;  "  "  et  mesmes  pour  ce  que  le 

II.  131.  roy  (Francis)  est  puissant,  ot  qn'il  y 

'  No.  227.  ha    sif^ne    et   ai)iJari;nco    que    Tcjifunt 

*  No.  228.  qu'elle  jjorto  sera  gross  ot  puissant." 

'  Claude,  like  hor  mother,  was  very  — Gattinara    to    Margaret,    Feb.    14. 

short  and    very   corpulent.     "  She  is  Le    Glay,    Negociutinns,    ii.    53.      See 

with   child  : — many   fear  for   her  de-  also  Calendar,  II.  (!17. 

VOL.    I.  G 


82  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

the  tomb  by  the  seers  and  prognosticators  of  the  time,  I  do 
not  care  to  inquire.  More  than  once  she  had  been  pestered 
by  his  soHcitations  within  the  first  week  of  her  widowhood,^ 
sometimes  in  his  own  behalf,  sometimes  in  behalf  of  others, 
and  among  the  rest  for  the  Duke  of  Savoy. '^  "If  Mary  con- 
tinue at  this  court,"  writes  Gattinara  to  Margaret  of  Savoy, 
"they  speak  of  her  marriage  with  your  brother-in-law,  whom 
the  King,  as  I  am  told,  has  invited  to  court,  and  offered  to 
furnish  with  money."  The  Duke  of  Lorraine,  as  the  Emperor 
told  Maraton,  was  anxious  to  have  her,  and  his  suit  was 
favoured  by  the  King  of  France.^  To  this  list  must  be  added 
the  Duke  of  Bavaria  and  the  Prince  of  Portugal.  Maximilian, 
too,  who  had  foresworn  matrimony,  and  resigned  himself  to  the 
hopes  of  canonization,  entertained  designs  upon  the  hand  of 
this  modern  Penelope.  In  the  depth  of  his  embarrassments, 
and  the  difficulty  of  finding  some  decent  pretext  to  raise  money, 
a  negociation  for  a  marital  alliance  with  England,  whether 
successful  or  not,  held  out  the  prospect  of  wealth  in  earnest, 
or  at  least  a  liberal  loan  from  the  purse  of  so  rich  a  brother- 
in-law.  Not  long  since  he  had  written  to  his  daughter 
Margaret,  declaring  that  he  would  never  marry  again  for 
"beauty  or  money,"  were  he  to  die  for  it.*  But  beauty  he 
could  resist;  not  so  the  charms  of  money.  "Madam,"  says 
Lewis  Maraton,  writing  to  Margaret  on  the  9th  of  Februar}^, 
"  I  have  received  your  letter  this  morning,  dated  Brussels,  the 
1st  February,  with  the  portrait  of  a  certain  j^erson  whom  you 
know  ;  and  after  dinner,  when  the  Emperor  was  in  his  chamber, 
I  showed  it  him.  He  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  portrait  for 
a  full  half-hour  or  more ;  and  after  thus  attentively  gazing  he 
summoned  a  secretary  who  had  seen  the  said  personage,  and 
asked  him  if  it  was  very  like.  The  secretary  told  him,  '  there 
could  not  be  a  better  likeness.'  The  Emperor  has  commis- 
sioned me  to  ask  you,  without  letting.it  be  known  that  he  had 
taken  any  interest  in  the  matter,  to  write  to  the  king  of 
England  to  get  the  lady  into  his  own  hands,  urging  his 
majesty  of  England  that  if  she  be  married  in  France,  and 
were  to  die  without  heirs,  his  kingdom  would  be  exj^osed  to 
great  hazards."^  The  Emperor's  application  arrived  too  late, 
and  was  strangled  in  the  birth,  like  most  of  his  projects. 

But  whilst  sovereigns  were  looking  wistfully  at  the  great 

1  Nos.  134,  139.  *  Negociations,  ii.  73  n. 

*  Charles    III.,    Duke    of    Savoy.  "  Corresp.  de  Max.,  ii.  379. 

Negociations,  ii.,  46,  47,  Feb.  4.  *  Le  Glay,  Negociations,  etc.,  ii.  73. 


1515.]  MARY  AND   SUFFOLK.  83 

prize,  and  politicians  at  home  and  abroad  were  speculating 
on  the  chances,  or  projecting  matches  for  Mary,  she  had  taken 
the  matter  into  her  own  hands.  She  possessed,  like  the  rest 
of  the  Tudors,  though  with  less  opportunities  of  displaying  it, 
a  spice  of  that  wilfulness,  which  more  than  once,  in  cases  of 
emergencj'-,  served  her  family  in  lieu  of  nobler  qualities,  and, 
if  not  magnanimity  itself,  might  easily  be  mistaken  for  it. 
The  attentions  of  Francis  had  been  intolerable,  ungenerous, 
and  unmanly,  especially  in  her  forlorn  and  youthful  state. 
She  had  waived  the  subject,  when  pressed  by  Suffolk,  with 
natural  modesty  and  reluctance.  But  to  Henry  himself  she 
sjDoke  out  more  plainly.^  She  told  him  she  had  been  com- 
pelled to  disclose  to  Francis  her  affection  for  Suffolk,  in  order 
to  be  relieved  of  the  annoyances  of  his  suit,  which  was  not  to 
her  honour ;  and,  in  conclusion,  she  urged  her  brother  for 
leave  to  return,  that  she  might  not  be  exposed  to  a  repetition 
of  them.  Henry's  answer  was  not  such  as  she  might  have 
expected.  There  was  a  party  in  the  Council  who  opposed  her 
union  with  the  Duke  for  obvious  reasons.  She  wrote  to  her 
brother  a  second  time,  reminding  him  of  his  promise  :  ^ 

'*  Sir, — Your  grace  knoweth  well  that  I  did  marry  for  your  pleasure 
this  time  ;  and  now  I  trust  that  you  will  suffer  me  to  do  what  me  list  to 
do.  For,  Sire,  I  know  well  .  .  .  rs  ■'  that  they  doth  (do)  ;  and  I  insure 
your  grace  that  my  mind  (atiection)  is  not  there  where  they  would  have 
me  ;  and  I  trust  your  grace  Avill  not  do  so  to  me,  that  have  always  been  so 
glad  to  fulfil  your  mind  as  I  have  been  ;  whereto  I  beseech  your  grace  will 
have  granted.  .  .  .  For  if  you  will  have  me  married  in  any  place,  saving 
whereas  my  mind  is,  I  will  be  there  whereas  your  grace  nor  none  otlier 
shall  have  any  joy  of  me  ;  for  I  promise  yovir  grace  you  shall  hear  that 
I  will  be  in  some  religious  house,  the  which  I  think  your  grace  would  be 
very  son-y  of,  and  your  realm  also.  Sir,  I  know  well  that  the  king  tliat 
is  now  wll  send  to  your  grace  for  his  imcle  the  duke  of  Savoy  for  to  marry 
me  ;  bvit  I  trust  your  grace  will  not  do  it." 

She  then  tells  him  that  he  knows  "  where  she  purposeth  to 
marry,  if  ever  she  marry  again ;  "  meaning  Suffolk,  who,  as 
she  adds,  had  many  hinderers  about  his  grace. 

Meanwhile  Suffolk's  opponents  in  the  Council  had  not 
been  inactive.  They  had  employed  a  friar,  named  Langley, 
to  poison  her  ear  against  the  Duke."*  The  friar  told  her  that 
Suffolk  and  Wolsey  had  dealings  with  the  devil,  and  "by  the 
puissance  of  the  said  devil"  kept  Henry  subject  to  their  wills. 

'  II.  163.  marry  her  elsewhere.     Some  pas8ai,'os, 

'  II.  228.  now    lost,   havo    been    supplied    from 

*  The  passage  is  mutilated  in  the  Musters'   Extracts,  in  Jesus  Colleyo, 

original  manuscript,  but  she  evidently  Oxford. 

refers    to    Suffolk's    opponents  in  the  *  II.  138. 

Council,  who  were  urgiug  Henry   to 


84  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

He  assured  her  that  Suffolk,  by  his  diaboHcal  arts,  had 
caused  the  disease  "  in  Compton's  leg;  "^  for  he  knew  "the 
premises  well,  and  could  not  doubt  it  was  the  Duke's  doing." 
So  Wolsey  was  left  to  fight  her  battles  single-handed.  The 
disputes  at  the  Council  table  were  long  and  obstinate.  If 
Suffolk  triumphed,  and  a  good  understanding  were,  by  his 
means,  promoted  between  the  two  Sovereigns,  Wolsey  and  he 
would  monopolize  their  master's  favour,  as  the  Duke  hinted. 
If  he  failed,  he  must  not  only  forfeit  the  hand  of  Mary,  but, 
to  all  appearance,  he  and  Wolsey  would  be  irretrievably  ruined. 
That  Henry  should  tolerate  such  scandals,  ringing  so  loudly 
throughout  the  courts  of  Europe  ;  that  he  should  apparently 
care  so  little  for  Mary's  comfort  and  reputation  as  to  expose 
her  week  after  week  to  the  importunities  of  Francis ; — still 
more,  that  he  should  continue  with  Francis  on  the  most 
friendly  terms,  as  if  nothing  had  happened ; — are  difficulties 
not  easily  solved.  Was  it  confidence  in  his  sister's  honour, 
though  she  was  but  a  widow  of  eighteen  ?  Did  he  disbelieve 
her  fears,  and  think  that  her  assertions  were  unfounded  ? 

Two  other  jorojects  were  bound  up  with  Suffolk's  commis- 
sion :  one  was,  to  obtain  possession  of  the  jewels  presented  to 
Mary  by  her  late  husband ;  the  other,  to  make  profit  out  of 
the  wish  of  Francis  to  recover  Tournay.^  It  is  recorded 
that  at  her  marriage  with  Lewis  "  a  great  diamond  and  a 
tablet  with  a  great  round  pearl  "^  formed  part  of  the  bridal 
offerings.  The  Earl  of  Worcester  wrote  in  glowing  terms  of 
"the  goodliest  and  richest  sight  of  jewels  that  ever  he  saw."^ 
All  of  them,  the  King  had  told  Worcester,  were  destined  for 
Mary's  use ;  but  he  added,  merrily  laughing,  "  My  wife  shall 
not  have  all  at  once,  but  at  divers  times ;  "  for  he  would 
have  "  many  and  at  divers  times  kisses  and  thanks  for  them." 
These  jewels,  and  Mary's  claim  to  them,  now  formed  the  basis 
of  a  long  and  intricate  negociation,  in  the  conduct  of  which 
Mary's  honour  and  happiness  held  but  a  secondary  place. 
The  price  of  her  hand  was  to  be  the  Duke's  success  in  accom- 
plishing this  intricate  and  difficult  task ;  and  as  Suffolk's 
abilities  as  a  negociator,  though  sharpened  by  his  affection 
for  Mary,  were  not  brilliant,  he  was  no  match  for  the  subtle 

'  No  doubt  Sii"  William  Compton,  tions    does    not    appear.      The    first 

who  was  in  great  favour  with  Henry  mention   of    Tournay   is   in    Feb.    10 

VIII.,    and   afterwards    died    of    the  (II.  140). 
"sweating   sickness."  ^  1.5495. 

*  Whetlier    these    were    part    of  *  I.  5468. 

Suffolk's  oriy-inal  and  secret  iastruc- 


1315.]  MARY  AND   SUFFOLK.  85 

politicians  of  the  French  court.  If  his  accompHshments  as  a 
mathematician  were  no  hetter  than  his  speUing,  it  may  be 
doubted  whether  a  "  sum  in  addition  of  money  "  would  not 
have  proved  to  him  an  inextricable  mystery.  At  all  events, 
he  staggered  under  the  ditficulties  of  his  task,  and  panted  to 
get  away  from  the  "  stinking  prison  "  of  Paris,  as  he  calls  it, 
in  words  more  emphatic  than  elegant.  Again  and  again  he 
earnestly  besought  the  King  "to  call  him  and  the  Queen  his 
sister  home."  ^  "  Her  grace  nor  I  shall  never  be  merry  to 
win,"  he  tells  Henry,  "  and  therefore  I  beseech  your  grace  she 
and  I  may  be  in  your  remembrance." 

In  reply  to  these  urgent  and  repeated  entreaties,  Wolsey, 
their  unflinching  friend,  entreated  the  two  lovers  to  have 
patience.  He  told  Suffolk  that  the  King,  after  the  sittings  of 
the  Council,  had  called  him  apart,  and  bade  him  write  to 
Suffolk  to  use  all  his  efforts  to  obtain  from  Francis  Mary's 
gold  plate  and  jewels ;  ^  and  until  this  were  accomplished, 
Suffolk  and  the  Queen  would  not  obtain  licence  to  retm-n.  "  I 
assure  you,"  continues  Wolsey,  "the  hope  that  the  King  hath 
to  obtain  the  said  plate  and  jewels  is  the  thing  that  most 
stayeth  his  grace  constantly  to  assent  that  ye  should  marry 
his  sister  ;  the  lack  whereof,  I  fear  me,  might  make  him  cold 
and  remiss  and  cause  some  alteration,  whereof  all  men  here, 
except  his  grace  and  myself,  would  be  right  glad." 

The  terms  imposed  were  somewhat  of  the  hardest.  In  a 
fit  of  stinginess,  more  befitting  his  father,  Henry  demanded 
the  restoration  of  Mary's  jewels  and  furniture ;  all  the  ex- 
penses of  her  passage  were  to  be  returned,  and  the  sums 
reimbursed  that  had  been  laid  out  in  providing  her  bridal 
apparel.  Though  rarely  accustomed  to  remonstrate,  Suffolk 
and  the  commissioners  could  not  but  complain  of  such  extreme 
demands.  "As  the  queen,"  they  wrote  to  Wolsey,^  "shall 
have  all  her  stuff  returned,  we  think  it  is  not  reasonable  to 
demand  such  sums  as  have  been  laid  out  by  the  king's  officers 
for  provision  of  the  same,  for  she  may  not  have  both  the 
money  and  stuff.  And  sithence  it  is  Hkely  that  we  shall 
commune  with  reasonable  men,  we  would  be  rather  loth  to 
demand  anything  out  of  season."  Every  day  the  negociations 
became  more  hampered  and  more  perplexed ;  the  generous 
spirit  in  which  they  had  been  commenced  was  fast  disappear- 
ing, and  was  superseded  by  the  less  amiable  desire  of  each 

•  II.  115.     This  letter  was  written       of  that  date, 
apparently    about    the    21st    of    Fob.  ^  II.  20.'J. 

Compare  No.  82,  whicli  is  evidently  ^  H-  2,04,. 


86  THE   EEIGN   OF  HENEY   VIII.  [A.D. 

party  to  outwit  and  overreacli  the  other.  The  EngHsh,  in- 
structed from  home,  especially  by  Suffolk's  opponents — who, 
to  suit  their  own  party  purposes,  urged  the  King  to  unreason- 
able demands — endeavoured  to  obtain  an  advantageous  ex- 
change for  Tournay.  They  insisted  on  the  delivery  of  the 
jewels  which  Lewis  had  promised  or  given  her,  and  the  dowry 
he  had  settled  upon  her.  The  French  negociators  fell  back 
upon  the  promise  made  at  Mary's  marriage,  that  Tournay 
should  be  restored  unconditionally ;  and  pleaded  in  return 
that  the  jewels  had  been  given  to  Mary  only  as  Queen  of 
France,  and  could  not  be  transported  out  of  the  realm.  The 
disposition  of  the  two  courts  became  daily  more  bitter  and 
impracticable,  and  Mary's  hopes  of  a  happy  union  with 
Suffolk  more  distant  every  hour.  She  wrote  to  her  brother  to 
say  that  all  her  plate  and  jewels  should  be  "at  his  command- 
ment ;  "  and  she  only  regretted  that  the  gift  was  not  so  large 
as  it  might  have  been,  in  consequence  of  the  difficulties 
created  by  the  negociation.^  "And,  Sir,"  she  added,  in  a 
tone  of  respect  contrasting  with  the  more  familiar  address  of 
her  earlier  letters,  "  over  and  above  this,  I  most  humbly 
beseech  your  grace  to  write  to  the  French  king  and  all  your 
ambassadors  here,  that  they  make  all  the  speed  possible,  that 
I  may  come  to  your  grace,  for  my  singular  desire  and  comfort 
is  to  see  your  grace,  above  all  things  in  this  world.''^ 

We  may  overlook  this  extravagant  expression  of  affection 
for  her  brother  in  a  young  woman  of  nineteen,  brought 
unexpectedly  into  the  prospect  of  a  union  with  the  man  she 
had  long  loved,  the  success  of  which  depended  entirely  on 
that  brother's  consent.  But  there  was  a  stronger  reason  for 
this  urgency  and  vehemence,  unknown  to  all  except  herself 
and  Suffolk ; — Mary  was  married  already,  and  her  marriage 
could  no  longer  be  kept  secret.  The  history  of  this  strange 
affair  may  be  learnt  from  a  letter  of  Suffolk's,  addressed  to 
the  King,  and  inclosed  in  another  to  Wolsey,  for  Wolsey's 
perusal.  Whether  the  letter  was  delivered  to  the  King  or  not 
is  uncertain,  for  to  Wolsey  alone  were  the  secrets  of  this  love- 
making  confided,  and  his  advice  was  implicitly  followed,  even 
to  the  expressions  contained  in  the  letters  of  the  Queen-widow.^ 
After  stating  that  he  had  done  his  best  to  obtain  "  hall  her 
stouf  and  jowyelles,"  Suffolk  continues,^  "I  find  you  so  good 
lord  to  me,  that  there  is  nothing  that  grieves  me,  but  that  she 
and  I  have  no  more  to  content  your  grace.     But,  Sir,  as  she 

'  II.  229.  2  See  the  carious  instance  in  II.  272.  "  II.  80. 


1515.]  PEIVATELY  MARRIED.  87 

lias  written  to  you  of  her  own  hand,  she  is  content  to  give  you 
all  that  her  grace  shall  have  hy  the  right  of  her  woshound 
(hushand)  ;  and,  if  it  come  not  to  so  much  as  your  grace 
thought,  she  is  content  to  give  j^our  grace  what  sum  you  shall 
he  content  to  axe,  to  he  paid  on  her  jointure,  and  all  that  she 
has  in  this  world."  Then,  after  entreating  the  King,  as  well 
he  might,  not  "to  let  his  enemies  have  the  advantage  over 
him,"  he  thus  proceeds  : — 

"  Sir,  one  thing  I  ensin-e  your  grace,  that  it  shall  never  be  said  that 
I  did  oliend  jowr  grace  in  word,  deed,  or  thought,  but  for  this  matter 
touching  the  queen,  your  sister,  the  which  I  can  no  longer  nor  will  not 
liide  from  your  grace.  Sir,  so  it  is,  that  when  I  came  to  Paris,'  the  queen 
was  in  hand  with  me  the  lirst  day  I  came,  and  said  she  must  be  short 
with  me,  and  oj^en  to  me  her  pleasure  and  mind.  And  so  she  began,  and 
showed  how  good  lady  she  was  to  me,  and  if  I  would  be  ordered  by  her 
she  would  never  have  none  but  me.  She  showed  me  she  had  verily 
vmderstood  as  well  by  friar  Langley  and  friar  Fr  .  .  that  and  ever  she 
came  in  England,  she  should  never  have  me  ;  and  therefore  she  swore 
that  and  I  would  not  marry  her  at  once,  she  would  never  have  me,  nor 
never  come  to  England." 

Then  follows  a  passage,  unfortunately  too  mutilated  to  be 
intelligible,  but  apparently  implying  that  she  had  received 
information  that  Suffolk's  purpose  was  to  take  her  to  England 
and  marry  her  elsewhere  : — 

"  I  axed  her  what  it  was  ;  and  she  said  that  the  best  in  France  (Francis) 
had  said  unto  her,  that  and  she  went  into  England  she  should  go  into 
Flanders.2  To  the  which  she  said  that  she  had  rather  to  be  torn  in 
pieces  than  ever  she  should  come  there  ;  and  with  that  she  wept.  Sir,  1 
never  saw  woman  so  weep  ;  and  when  I  saw  that,  I  showed  unto  her 
grace  that  there  was  none  such  thing,  vipon  my  faith,  with  the  best  words 
I  could  :  but  in  none  ways  I  could  make  her  to  believe  it.  And  when  I 
saw  that,  I  showed  her  grace  that  and  her  grace  would  be  content  to 
wi-ite  inito  your  grace  and  obtain  your  good  will,  I  would  be  content  ;  or 
else  I  durst  not,  because  I  had  made  unto  your  grace  such  a  promise. 
AVhereunto,  in  conclusion,  she  said  :  'If  the  king,  my  brother,  is  content, 
and  the  French  king  both,  the  one  by  his  letters  and  the  otlier  by  his 
words,  that  1  should  have  you,  I  will  have  the  time  after  my  desire,  or 
else  I  may  well  think  that  the  woi-ds  of  the  men  in  these  parts,  and  of 
them  in  England,  be  true — that  you  are  come  to  'tice  me  home,  to  the 
intent  that  I  may  be  married  into  Flanders  ; — which  I  will  never,  even  to 
die  for  it ;  and  so  I  possessed  the  French  king  ere  you  came.  And  if  you 
will  not  be  content  to  follow  my  end  (comply  with  my  determination), 
look  never  after  this  day  to  liave  the  same  proffer  again.'  " 

Eather  than  lose  all,  Suffolk  tells  the  King  he  thought  it  best 
to  comply  ;   and  so  she  and  he  were  privately  married  in  the 

'  The  4th  of  Feb.     His  interview  at    that    time    pending  for  marryiii-,' 

with  Mary  took  place  next  day.  Charles    to    lleuee,    sister    to    Qiio(mi 

^  To   be    married    to    Charles    of  Claude.     The  purpose  of  snch  a  deceit 

Castile.     This  was  an  artifice  on  the  is  as  obvious  as  it  was  diBhouourable. 
part  of  Francis,  for  ncgociatious  .were 


88 


THE  EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII. 


[A.D. 


presence  of  ten  persons  only,  none  of  his  fellows  from  England 
being  made  aware  of  his  intentions  :  for  Mary  would  not  suffer 
it;  "for  she  said  and  I  did  so  she  thought  they  would  give 
me  counsel  to  the  contrary." 

Suffolk's  pathetic  appeal  was  seconded  by  the  following 
letter  from  Mary :  ^ — 

"  Pleaseth  your  grace,  to  my  greatest  discomfort,  sorrow,  and  discon- 
solation,  but  lately  I  have  been  advertised  of  the  great  and  high  dis- 
pleasure which  your  highness  beareth  unto  me  and  my  Lord  of  Suffolk  for 
the  marriage  between  us.  Sir,  I  will  not  in  any  wise  deny  but  tliat  I  have 
offended  your  grace,  for  the  which  I  do  put  myself  most  humblynn  your 
clemency  and  mercy.  Nevertheless,  to  the  intent  that  your  highness 
should  not  think  that  I  had  simply,  carnally,  and  of  any  sensual  appetite 
done  the  same,  I  having  no  regard  to  fall  in  your  grace's  displeasure, 
I  assure  your  grace  that  I  had  never  done  against  your  ordinance  and 
consent,  but  by  reason  of  the  great  despair  wherein  I  was  put  by  the  two 
friars  .  .  .  which  hath  certified  me,  in  case  I  came  to  England,  your 
council  would  never  consent  to  the  marriage  between  the  said  Lord  and 
me,  with  many  other  sayings  concerning  the  same  marriage  ;  so  that 
I  verily  thought  that  the  said  friars  would  never  have  offered  to  have 
made  me  like  overture  unless  they  might  have  had  charge  from  some  of 
your  council  ;  the  which  put  me  in  such  consternation,  fear,  and  doubt  of 
the  obtaining  of  the  thing  which  I  desired  most  in  this  world,  that  I  rather 
chose  to  put  me  in  your  mercy  by  accomplishing  the  marriage  than  to  put 
me  in  the  order  of  your  council,  knowing  them  to  be  otherwise  minded. 
Wliereupon,  Sir,  I  put  my  lord  of  Suffolk  in  choice  whether  he  would 
accomj^lish  the  marriage  within  four  days,  or  else  that  he  should  never 
have  enjoyed  me  ;  whereby  I  know  well  that  I  constrained  him  to  break 
such  promises  he  made  your  grace,  as  well  for  fear  of  losing  me,  as  also 
that  I  ascertained  him  that  by  their  consent  I  would  never  come  into 
England.  And  now  that  your  grace  knoweth  the  both  offences  of  the 
which  I  have  been  the  only  occasion,  I  most  humbly,  and  as  your  most 
sorrowful  sister,  requiring  you  to  have  compassion  upon  us  both,  and  to 
pardon  our  offences,  and  that  it  will  please  your  grace  to  write  to  me  and 
my  lord  of  Suffolk  some  comfortable  words,  for  it  shall  be  the  greatest 
comfort  for  \is  both. 

' '  By  your  loving  and  most  humble  sister, 

"Maky."2 

In  a  letter  to  Wolsey  the  Duke  writes  : —  ^ 

"  My  Lord, — I  recommend  me  to  you,  and  so  it  is  that  I  wit  that  you 
have  been  the  chief  in  .  .  .  and  has  been  the  helper  of  me,  so  that  I  am 
obliged  to  you  next  God  and  my  master,  and  therefore  I  will  hide  none 
thing  from  you,  trusting  that  you  will  help  me  now  as  you  have  done  hall 
ways.  Me  Lord,  so  it  is  that  when  I  came  to  Paris  I  heard  many  things 
which  put  me  in  great  fear,  and  so  did  the  queen  both  ;  and  the  queen 


>  11.  226. 

^  This  touching-  and  eloqcent  letter 
is  written  in  Mary's  laborious  holo- 
graph, with  very  little  correction.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  it  was  coijied 
from  an  original,  dictated  or  over- 
looked bj  Wolsey,  as  on  another  oc- 
casion. (See  p.  93,  post.)  The  style 
is    too    sruarded    and    the    tone    too 


humble  for  Mary,  who  certainly  be- 
lieved that  she  had  a  perfect  right  to 
dispose  of  her  own  hand  as  she 
pleased ;  not  to  insist  upon  casual 
expressions  hero  and  there  which  are 
not  those  of  a  young  woman  who  had 
very  little  practice  in  writing. 
3  II.  222. 


1515.]  SUFFOLK   DESIRES   TO   BE   MARRIED  OPENLY.  89 

would  never  let  me  be  in  rest  till  I  had  granted  her  to  be  married  ;  and 
so  to  be  plain  with  you,  I  have  married  her  heartily,  and  has  lien  with 
her,  insomuch  as  far  [as  in]  me  lies  'that  she  be  with  child.  My  Lord  I 
am  not  in  a  little  sorrow  if  the  king  should  know  it,  and  that  his  grace 
should  be  displeased  with  me  ;  for  I  ensure  you  that  I  had  rather  'a  died 
than  he  should  be  miscontent,  and  ...  or  for  me  nown  good  lord,  since 
you  have  brought  .  .  .  hitherto,  let  me  not  be  undone  now,  the  whiche  I 
fear  me  shall  be,  without  the  help  of  you.  Me  Lor,  think  not  that  ever 
you  shall  make  any  [friend]  that  shall  be  more  obliged  to  you  ;  and 
therefore  me  nown  good  Lord  .  .  .  help." 

Then  after  a  very  mutilated  passage,  impljdng  that  Francis 
and  his  mother  would  write  to  Henry  in  his  and  Mary's 
favour,  he  adds  :  "Me  Lord,  I  doubt  not  they  will  write  this 
for  me,  or  how  you  shall  think  best  they  should  write."  Then 
he  proceeds  to  tell  Wolsey  that  in  France, 

"  they  max"ry  as  well  in  Lent  as  out  of  Lent,  with  licence  of  any  bishop. 
Now  my  Lord,  you  know  all,  and  in  you  is  all  my  trust,  beseeching  you 
now  of  your  assured  help,  and  that  I  may  have  answer  from  you  of  this 
and  of  the  other  writings  as  shortly  as  may  be  possible,  for  I  ensure  you 
that  I  have  as  heavy  a  heart  as  any  man  living,  and  shall  have  till  I  may 
hear  good  news  from  you." 

This  letter  was  apparently  accompanied  by  the  following,^ 
although  the  former  is  preserved  in  the  British  Museum,  and 
the  latter  at  the  Eecord  Oftice, — such  separation  of  documents 
being  not  uncommon.  I  have  retained  the  original  spelling 
as  a  specimen  of  the  Duke's  orthography,  though  not  the 
most  intricate  by  any  means.  Both  are  wholly  in  Suffolk's 
hand. 

"  Me  Lord, — For  to  in  deus  the  quyenes  mattar  and  myene  un  to  the 
kynges  grace,  I  thynke  byest  for  your  fourst  entre  you  scliold  dyllewar 
un  to  to  (sic)  hem  a  dymond  wyet  a  greth  pryell,  wyche  you  schall  rysayef 
wyet  thys  from  the  quyen  hes  sustar.  Ryquyer  hem  to  take  et  aworth, 
asuarryng  hes  grace  y'  whan  soo  ewar  sclie  schall  have  the  possesseuu  of 
the  resedeu  y*^  he  schall  have  the  chowse  of  them  acourdyng  unto  her 
formar  wrettyng.  Me  Lord,  sche  and  I  bowth  rymyttys  thes  mattar  holla 
to  your  dysskras[eun],  tresting  y'  in  hall  hast  posscbbyll  wj'e  schall  her 
from  you  som  good  tydynges  tocheng  howar  afyei'es,  wher  wycth  I 
lytjuyer  you  to  depeche  this  byrrar,  and  y*  he  taii-e  for  noon  oddar  cans. 
By  youre,  the  5  day  of  Mache,  at  tyn  a  cloke  at  neth. 

"  Chaulys  Suffolk. 

"Tomy  Lord  of  York." 

I  think  it  is  clear  from  these  and  other  expressions 
scattered  throughout  his  correspondence  that  Suffolk  had  left 
England  in  the  first  instance  with  a  promise  from  Henry 
that  he  should  be  united  to  Mary  on  her  return  ;  the  King,  at 
least,  would  offer  no  obstacle  to  their  union.     How  far  Mary 

'  "  Fyer  mo  lyes  ;  "  query,  fear  nio  lest  ?  *  IL  223. 


90  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENEY  VIII.  [AD. 

was  right  in  supposing  that  if  she  returned  that  promise  would 
be  evaded,  or  what  were  its  precise  terms,  we  have  no  means 
of  deciding.  It  is  clear  from  the  tone  of  his  letter  to  Wolsej^ 
that  Suffolk  did  not  apprehend  any  settled  displeasure  on  the 
part  of  his  Sovereign.  He  had  pledged  his  word  to  the  King 
not  to  take  advantage  of  Mary's  affection  or  precipitate  their 
union.  The  offence  was  venial,  and  he  assured  himself  of  an 
easy  and  prompt  forgiveness.  But  Wolsey  understood  his 
master's  temper  much  better  than  Suffolk,  and  he  replied  to 
the  Duke,  in  the  following  letter,  every  word  of  which  must 
have  struck  a  pang  into  Suffolk's  heart  :  ^ 

"  My  Lord, — Witli  sorrowful  heart  I  write  unto  you,  signifying  unto 
the  same  that  I  have  to  my  no  little  discomfort  and  inward  heaviness 
perceived  by  your  letters,  dated  at  Paris  the  5th  day  of  this  instant 
month,  how  that  you  be  secretly  married  unto  the  king's  sister,  and  have 
accomjianied  together  as  man  and  wife.  And  albeit  ye  by  your  said 
letters  desired  me  in  no  wise  to  dis[c]lose  the  same  to  the  king's  grace, 
yet  seeing  the  same  toucheth  not  only  his  honor,  your  promise  made  to 
his  grace,  but  also  my  truth  towards  the  same,  I  could  no  less  do  but 
incontinent  upon  the  sight  of  your  said  letters,  declare  and  shew  the 
contents  thereof  to  his  highness,  which  at  the  first  hearing  could  scantly 
believe  the  same  to  be  true  ;  but  after  I  had  showed  to  his  grace  that  by 
your  ovni  writing  I  had  knowledge  thereof,  his  grace,  giving  credence 
thereunto,  took  the  same  grievously  and  displeasantly,  not  only  for  that 
ye  durst  presume  to  marry  liis  sister  without  his  knowledge,  btit  also  for 
breaking  of  your  promise  made  to  his  grace  in  his  hand,  I  being  present, 
at  Eltham  ;  having  also  such  a[n]  assured  affiance  in  your  truth,  that  for 
all  the  world,  and  to  have  been  torn  with  wild  horses,  ye  would  not  have 
broken  your  oath,  promise,  and  assurance,  made  to  his  grace,  which  doth 
well  perceive  that  he  is  deceived  of  the  constant  and  assured  trust  that  he 
thought  to  have  found  in  you,  and  so  his  grace  would  I  should  expressly 
write  unto  you.  And  for  my  part,  no  man  can  be  more  sorry  than  I  am 
tliat  ye  have  so  done,  being  so  incumbered  therewith  that  I  cannot  devise 
nor  study  the  remedy  thereof,  considering  that  ye  have  failed  to  him 
which  hath  brought  you  up  of  low  degree  ^  to  be  of  this  great  honor  ;  and 
that  ye  were  the  man  in  all  the  world  he  loved  and  trusted  best,  and  was 
content  that  with  good  order  and  saving  of  his  honor  ye  should  have  in 
marriage  his  said  sister.  Cursed  be  the  blind  afiection  and  counsel  that 
hath  brought  you  hereunto  !  fearing  that  such  sudden  and  unadvised 
dealing  shall  have  siidden  repentance. 

"  Nevertheless  in  this  great  perplexity  I  see  no  other  remedy  but  first 
to  make  your  humble  pursuits  by  your  own  wi'iting,  causing  also  the 
French  king,  the  queen,  with  other  your  friends,  to  write  :  with  this  also 
that  shall  follow,  which  I  assure  you  I  write  unto  you  of  mine  own  head 
without  knowledge  of  any  person  living,  being  in  great  doubt  whether  the 
same  shall  make  your  peace  or  no  ;  notwithstanding,  if  any  remedy  be,  it 
shall  be  by  that  way.  It  shall  be  well  done  that,  with  all  diligence 
possible,  ye  and  the  queen  bind  yourself  by  obligation  to  pay  yearly  to 
the  king  during  the  queen's  life  £4,000  of  her  dower  ;  and  so  ye  and  she 
shall  have  remaining  of  the  said  dower  £6,000  and  above  to  Live  withal 
yearly.     Over  and  besides  this  ye  must  bind  yovu'self  to  give  unto  the 

»  II.  224. 

*  The  words  "  low  degree  "  were  inserted  in  the  place  of  "  nowgth." 


1515.]  THE   KING'S   DISPLEASURE.  91 

king  the  plate  of  gold  and  jewels  which  the  late  French  king  had.  And 
whereas  the  queen  shall  have  full  restitution  of  her  dote,  ye  shall  not 
only  give  entirely  the  said  dote  to  the  king,  but  also  cause  the  French 
king  to  be  bound  to  pay  to  the  king  the  200,000  crowns,  which  his  grace 
is  bounden  to  pay  to  the  queen,  in  the  full  contentation  of  the  said  dote 
de  iiovissiinis  ih'iiarUs,  and  the  said  French  king  to  acqiiit  the  king  for  the 
payment  thereof  ;  like  as  the  king  hath  more  at  the  large  dechired  his 
pleasure  to  you,  by  his  letters  lately  sent  unto  you.  This  is  the  way  to 
make  your  peace  ;  whereat  if  ye  deeply  consider  what  danger  ye  be  and 
shall  be  in,  having  the  king's  displeasure,  I  doubt  not  both  the  queen 
and  you  will  not  stick,  but  with  all  eflectual  diligence  endeavour  your- 
selves to  recover  the  king's  favor,  as  well  by  this  mean  as  by  other  sub- 
stantial true  ways,  which  by  mine  .advise  ye  shall  use,  and  none  other, 
towards  his  gi-ace,  whom  by  corbobyll  drifts  and  ways  you  cannot  abuse. 
Now  I  have  told  you  my  opinion,  hardily  follow  the  same,  and  trust  not 
too  much  to  j-our  own  wit,  nor  follow  not  the  counsel  of  them,  that  hath 
not  more  deeply  considered  the  dangers  of  this  matter  than  they  have 
hitherto  done. 

"  And  as  touching  the  overtures  made  by  the  French  king  for 
Tonmay,  and  also  for  a  new  confederation  with  tlie  king  and  him,  like  as 
1  have  lately  written  to  you,  I  would  not  advise-  you  to  wade  any  further 
in  these  maters,  for  it  is  to  be  thought  that  the  French  king  intendeth 
to  make  his  hand  by  favoring  you  in  the  attaining  to  the  said  marriage  ; 
which  when  he  shall  perceive  that  by  your  means  he  cannot  get  such 
things  as  he  desireth,  peradventure  he  shall  show  some  change  and 
alteration  in  the  queen's  afiairs,  whereof  great  inconvenience  might 
ensue.  Look  wisely  therefore  upon  the  same,  and  consider  you  have 
enougli  to  do  in  redressing  your  own  causes  ;  and  th'nk  it  will  be  hard  to 
induce  the  king  to  give  you  a  commission  of  trust,  which  hath  so  lightly 
regarded  the  same  towards  his  grace. 

"  Thus  I  have  as  a  friend  declared  my  mind  unto  you,  and  never 
trust  to  use  nor  have  me  in  anything  contrary  to  truth,  my  master's 
honor,  jn'ofits,  wealth,  and  surety  ;  to  the  advancement  and  fm-therance 
whereof  no  creature  living  is  more  bounden ;  as  our  Lord  knowyth,  who 
send  you  grace  to  look  well  and  deeply  upon  your  acts  and  doings  ;  for  ye 
put  yourself  in  the  greatest  danger  that  ever  man  was  in." 

With  SO  many  anxieties,  and  the  dread  of  punishment 
hanging  over  his  head,  it  is  not  to  he  wondered  that  Suffolk's 
negociations  at  the  French  court  failed  of  success.  His  enemies 
accused  him  of  studying  his  own  interests  with  Mary  and 
neglecting  the  interests  of  the  nation.  They  insinuated  that 
he  had  sacrificed  the  purposes  of  his  mission  to  ingratiate 
himself  with  the  French  King.  He  desired  to  have  "some 
word  of  comfort  "  from  Henry ;  but  none  apparently  came. 
The  French,  on  their  side,  were  displeased  with  him  for  the 
jewel  he  had  sent  to  England  on  first  announcing  his  marriage, 
and  demanded  its  restoration  as  an  heirloom  of  the  Queens  of 
France.  They  assured  him  that  Queen  Claude  had  such  a 
mind  to  it  she  would  never  be  satisfied  without  it.^  As  for  the 
restoration  of  Mary's  property  and  jewels,  Sull'olk  tells  Wolsey 
he  had  done  his  best ;  but  it  passed  his  learning,  whether  she 

>   II.  App.  7. 


92  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

had  her  right,  or  had  been  outwitted  by  the  subtlety  of  the 
French  ministers.  Above  all  other  things  Mary's  condition 
occasioned  him  great  perplexity.  His  intimacy  with  her  was 
daily  becoming  more  notorious ;  his  honour  and  hers  was 
compromised  whilst  the  marriage  was  kept  strictly  private. 
No  man  with  a  spark  of  courage  and  generosity  could  endure 
to  see  the  woman  whom  he  loved  exposed  to  such  a  scandal, 
or  himself  and  his  Sovereign  pointed  at  by  the  public  finger  of 
scorn  in  every  court  of  Christendom.  "  My  Lord,"  he  says  to 
Wolsey,  in  great  anguish,  "  at  the  reverence  of  God  help  that 
I  may  be  married,  as  I  go  out  of  France,  openly,  for  many 
things  of  which  I  will  awartes  (advertize)  you  by  mine  next 
letters.  Give  me  your  advice  whether  the  French  King  and 
his  mother  shall  write  again  to  the  King  for  this  open 
marriage ;  seeing  that  this  privy  marriage  is  done,  and  that 
I  think  none  otherwise  but  that  she  is  with  child."  ^ 

It  was  now  unfortunately  the  season  of  Lent,  and  Easter 
Sunday  did  not  fall  until  the  8th  April.  No  licence  could  be 
obtained  wdthout  a  dis23ensation,  and  such  a  course  would 
have  given  rise  to  unfavourable  comments  in  England,  where 
these  ecclesiastical  restrictions  w^ere,  at  present,  more  closely 
observed  than  in  France.  Possibly  there  might  be  other 
motives  of  a  political  nature,  with  which  we  are  not  acquainted. 
But,  whatever  they  were,  the  wishes  of  Suffolk  and  Mary  were 
disregarded.  Notwithstanding  their  earnest  entreaties  for  a 
speedy  and  favourable  reply,  there  seems  to  have  been  a  total 
cessation  of  correspondence  from  England  between  the  12th  of 
March  and  the  3rd  of  April.  In  the  displeasure  of  Henry,  and 
the  momentary  triumph  of  Suffolk's  enemies,  it  w^as  uncertain 
what  line  of  conduct  the  King  would  pursue.  For  a  subject 
to  marry  the  sister  of  his  Sovereign,  without  his  consent,  was 
a  thing  unheard  of  in  England ;  and  the  Duke's  enemies 
called  loudly  for  signal  vengeance  on  the  man  who  had  been 
guilty  of  such  gross  presumption.  At  last  Mary  obtained 
leave  to  depart  the  first  week  after  Easter  ;  for  Francis  was 
now  impatient  to  start  on  his  Italian  expedition.  On  the  14th 
of  April  she  gave  a  receipt  at  the  Abbey  of  Clugny  in  Paris  for 
200,000  gold  crowns,  including  20,000  paid  for  her  travelling 

'  Her  eldest  son  was   born   11th  Boleyn  and  Lady  Elizabeth  Grey  stood 

March,  1516,  and  was  named  Henry,  as  proxies   for  Queen  Katharine  and 

from  his   godfather,  Henry  VIII.  (II.  the   Princess    Mary.      Her   godfather 

1652).     The  eldest  daughter  was  bom  was  Thomas  Eamridge,  Abbot  of  St. 

at  Bishop's  Hatfield,  17th  July,  1517,  Alban's,  whose  mouument  still  remains 

and  named  Frances.     See  the  account  in  the  abbey  church,  now  the  cathedral 

of  her  chiistening  in  II.  3489.     Lady  of  St.  Alban's. 


1515.]  SUFFOLK'S   DANGEK.  93 

expenses,  as  a  moiety  of  her  dowry ;  ^  but  her  gokl  pLite  and 
her  jewels,  with  the  exception  of  "  four  hagucs  of  no  great 
vahie "  ^  were  never  restored,  on  the  beggarly  plea  that 
Francis,  sorely  displeased  at  the  loss  of  the  diamond  called 
the  Mirror  of  Naples,  would  do  no  more.^  On  the  16th  the 
pair  started  for  England,  and  reached  Montreuil  on  the  22nd, 
uncertain  of  their  reception,  and  even  of  the  fate  which  awaited 
them.  At  Calais  they  were  afraid  to  leave  the  house,  as  the 
Duke  would  have  been  killed  by  the  angry  mob.^  On  his  road 
to  the  seaside  Suffolk  addressed  the  following  letter  to  his 
master  : —  ^ 

"  Most  gracious  Sovereign  Lord, — So  it  is  that  I  am  informed  divers 
ways  that  all  your  whole  council,  mj^  Lord  of  York  excepted,  with  many 
other,  are  clearly  determined  to  '  tympe '  your  grace  that  I  may  either  be 
put  to  death  or  be  put  in  prison,  and  so  to  be  destroyed.  Alas,  Sir,  I 
may  say  that  I  have  a  hard  fortune,  seeing  that  there  was  never  none  of 
them  in  trouble  but  I  was  glad  to  help  them  to  my  power,  and  that  your 
grace  knows  best.  And  now  that  I  am  in  this  none  little  trouble  and 
sorrow,  now  they  are  ready  to  help  to  destroy  me.  But,  Sir,  I  can  no 
more  but  God  forgive  them  whatsoever  comes  on  me  ;  for  I  am  determined. 
For,  Sir,  your  grace  is  he  that  is  my  sovereign  lord  and  master,  and  he 
that  has  brought  me  up  out  of  nought  ;  and  I  ani  your  subject  and 
servant,  and  he  that  has  offended  your  grace  in  breaking  my  promise  that 
I  made  your  grace  touching  the  queen  your  sister  ;  for  the  which  I,  with 
most  humble  heart,  I  will  yield  myself  unto  your  grace's  hands  to  do 
with  my  poor  body  your  gracious  pleasure,  not  fearing  the  malice  of 
them  ;  for  I  know  your  grace  of  such  nature  that  it  cannot  lie  in  their 
powers  to  cause  you  to  desti'oy  me  for  their  malice.  But  what  punish- 
ment I  have  I  shall  thank  God  and  your  grace  of  it,  and  think  that  I 
have  well  deserved  it,  both  to  God  and  your  grace  ;  as  knows  '  howar ' 
Lord,  who  send  your  grace  your  most  honourable  heart's  desire  with  long 
life,  and  me  most  sorrowful  wretch  your  gracious  favour,  what  soitows 
soever  I  endure  therefor.  At  Mottryli,  the  22nd  day  of  April,  by  your 
most  humble  subject  and  servant, 

"  Chakles  Suffolke." 

But  Henry  showed  no  signs  of  relenting.  A  day  or  two 
after  the  following  letter  addressed  by  Mary  to  her  brother  is 
found  in  the  form  of  a  draft  carefully  revised  by  Wolsey : — 

"  My  most  dear  and  most  entirely  beloved  brother,  in  most  Jinmhle 
manner  I  recommend  me  to  your  grace.  Dearest  brother,  I  doubt  not 
but  ye  have  in  your  good  remembrance,  that  Avhereas  for  the  good  of 
peace,  and  for  the  furtherance  of  your  atJairs,  ye  moved  me  to  marry  with 
my  lord  and  late  husband  King  Loys  of  France,  whose  soul  God  pardon, 
though  I  luiderstood  that  he  was  very  aged  and  sickly,  yet  for  the 
advancement  of  the  said  peace  and  for  the  furtherances  oi  your  causes  I 
was  contented  to  conform  myself  to  your  said  motion,  so  that  if  L  should 
fortune  to  survive  the  said  late  king,  I  might  with  your  good  will  marry 

•  II.  319.  worth  10,000  crowns.     (II.  4;i7.) 

==  'J'he  Chancellor  of  France,  how-  »  II.  3443. 

ever,    insisted    that    "  the    jewel    of  *  IT.  399. 

Naples "    was    worth    .30,000    crowns,  '  II.  367. 

and  the  18  pearls  Mary  had  received, 


9t  THE  REIGN   OF  HENEY  VIII.  [A.D. 

myself  at  my  liberty  without  your  displeasure.  Whereunto,  good  brother, 
ye  condescended  and  granted,  as  ye  well  know,  promising  unto  me  that 
in  such  case  ye  would  never  provoke  or  move  me  but  as  mine  own  heart 
and  mind  should  be  best  pleased,  and  that  wheresoever  I  should  dispose 
myself  ye  woxild  wholly  be  contented  with  the  same.  And  upon  that 
your  good  comfort  and  faithful  promise,  I  assented  to  the  i<a!d  marriage  ; 
else  1  would  never  have  granted  to,  as  at  the  same  time  I  showed  unto 
you  more  at  large.  Now  that  God  hath  called  my  said  late  husband  to 
His  mercy  and  that  I  am  at  my  liberty,  dearest  brother,  remembering  the 
great  virtues  which  I  have  seen  and  perceived  heretofore  in  my  Lord  of 
iSuftblk,  to  whom  I  liave  always  been  of  good  mind,  as  ye  well  know,  I 
have  affixed  and  clearly  determined  myself  to  marry  with  him  ;  and  the 
same,  I  assure  you,  hath  proceeded  only  of  mine  own  mind,  without  any 
request  or  labovir  of  my  said  Lord  of  Sufiblk,  or  of  any  other  person. 
And  to  be  plain  with  your  grace,  I  have  so  bound  myself  unto  him,  that 
for  no  cause  earthly  I  will  or  may  vary  or  change  from  the  same.  Where- 
fore, my  good  and  most  kind  brother,  I  now  beseech  your  grace  to  take 
this  matter  in  good  part,  and  to  give  unto  me  and  to  my  said  Lord  of 
Suffolk  your  good  will  herein  ;  ascertaining  you,  that  upon  the  trust  and 
comfort  which  I  have  for  that  you  have  always  honourably  regarded  your 
promise,  I  am  now  comen  out  of  the  realm  of  France,  and  have  j^ut 
myself  within  your  jurisdiction,  in  this  your  town  of  Calais,  where  I 
intend  to  remain  till  such  time  as  I  shall  have  answer  from  you  of  your 
good  and  loving  mind  herein  ;  which  I  would  not  have  done  but  upon  the 
faithful  trust  I  have  in  your  said  promise.  Humbly  beseeching  your 
grace  for  the  great  and  tender  love,  which  ever  hath  been  and  shall  be 
between  you  and  me,  to  bear  your  gracious  mind  and  show  yourself  to  be 
agreeable  hereunto,  and  to  certify  me  by  your  most  loving  letters  of  the 
same  ;  till  which  time  I  will  make  mine  abode  here,  and  no  further  enter 
your  realm. 

"  And  to  the  intent  it  may  please  you  the  rather  to  condescend  to  this 
my  most  hearty  desire,  I  am  contented,  and  expressly  promise  and  bind 
me  to  you  by  these  presents,  to  give  you  all  the  whole  dote  which  was 
delivered  with  me,  and  also  all  such  plate  of  gold  and  jewels  as  I  shall 
have  of  my  said  late  husband's.  Over  and  besides  this  I  shall,  rather 
than  fail,  give  vou  as  much  yearly  part  of  my  dower  to  as  great  a  sum  as 
shall  stand  with  your  will  and  pleasure.  And  of  all  the  premises  I 
promise,  upon  knowledge  of  your  good  mind,  to  make  unto  you  sufficient 
bonds.  Trusting  verily  that  in  fulfilling  of  your  said  promise  t(j  me  made, 
ye  will  show  your  brotherly  love,  aff'ection,  and  good  mind  to  me  in  this 
behalf,  which  to  hear  of  I  abide  with  most  desire,  and  not  to  be  miscon- 
tented  with  my  said  Lord  of  Suffolk,  whom  of  mine  inward  good  mind 
and  affection  to  him  I  have  in  manner  enforced  to  be  agreeable  to  the 
same  without  any  request  by  him  made,  as  knoweth  our  Lord,  whom  I 
beseech  to  have  yovir  grace  in  his  merciful  governance."  ^ 

The  effect  of  this  letter  is  unknown,  for  we  have  no  further 
notice  of  Mary  and  her  troubles.  Henry  contented  himself 
with  taking  her  plate  and  jewels,  and  binding  her  in  an 
obligation  of  24,000L  to  repay  the  expenses  of  her  former 
marriage  with  Lewis,  by  yearly  instalments  of  1,000/.,  and 
to  give  up  her  dowry  to  its  full  amount,^  The  terms  were 
rigidly  enforced.    On  the  13th  of  May  she  was  openly  espoused 

'  The    draft   is    in    Tuke's    hand,       himself, 
much  corrected ;  the  words  in  italics  ^  See  II.  436,  pp.  1488,  1489. 

were  corrected  or  added  by    Wolsey 


1515.] 


THE   OPEN  MAERIAGE. 


95 


to  Suffolk  at  Greenwich,^  in  presence  of  the  King  and  Queen. 
Sir  William  Sidney,  the  Duke's  relative,  was  despatched  to 
Francis  with  instructions:^  "That,  considering  there  were 
no  more  privy  to  the  secret  marriage  made  between  them  in 
France,  but  only  the  said  French  king,  and  none  privy  here 
thereunto  but  the  king,  to  whom  the  said  French  king  and 
duke  disclosed  the  same,  the  said  Sir  Wm.  Sidney  shall  say 
that  the  king's  grace  desireth  and  perfectly  trusteth  that,  for 
the  honor  of  the  said  French  queen,  and  for  avoiding  all  evil 
bruits  which  may  ensue  thereof,  he  will  reserve  and  keep  the 
same  at  all  times  hereafter  secret  to  himself  without  making 
anj'-  creature  privy  thereunto,  like  as  the  king  shall  do  for 
his  part." 

Henceforth  Mary's  name  drops  from  the  page  of  histoiy, 
and  is  only  mentioned  in  connection  with  some  court  banquet 
or  ceremonial.  Her  dower  continued  to  form  a  subject  of 
dispute  between  the  two  courts  for  three  years  after,  and 
more  than  once  Suffolk  complained  of  the  pecuniary  diffi- 
culties into  which  he  was  plunged  by  the  hard  terms  imposed 
upon  him  by  his  royal  brother-in-law.^ 


1  II.  468. 

*  II.  1129,  Act  for  lier  jointure. 

'  Upon  the  whole,  Suffolk  had 
reason  to  felicitate  himself  that  it 
was  no  worse.  He  had  a  narrow 
escape,  and  was  indebted  for  it  en- 
tirely to  Wolsey.  There  were  other 
circumstances  in  his  jarivate  history, 
not  known  perhaps  to  his  opponents, 
or  to  the  King  or  his  Council,  which 
would  pi-obably  have  thwarted  all 
Wolsey's  efforts  to  save  the  Duke,  had 
they  trarif pired.  He  had  been  twice 
married  already,  before  his  union  with 
Mary,  and  his  first  wife  was  still  alive. 
It  seems  that  in  after  years,  and  about 
the  time  of  Wolsey's  disgrace,  the  Duke 
entertained  suspicions  of  the  validity 
of  his  marriage  with  Mary,  and  the 
legitimacy  of  her  children.  Conse- 
quently he  applied  to  Pope  Clement 
VII.  for  a  bull  annulling  all  objections 
which  might  hoieafter  be  raised 
against  their  union.  The  bull  was 
granted  apparently  on  an  ex  j)^'''^^ 
statement  set  forth  by  the  Duke  him- 
self, and  the  facts  detailed  are  strange 
enough.  The  bull  was  exhibited  ac- 
cording to  the  notarial  attcsiation, 
which  is  without  .signature,  Vjy  iialph 
Cantrell  and  Humph.  Wingfield,  the 
Duke's  rctainei-8,  to  Rich.  Nyx,  Bishop 


of  Norwich,  August  20,  1529.      (IV. 
5859.) 

We  learn  from  it  the  following 
facts  of  Suffolk's  early  life.  When 
he  was  a  young  man  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  Vll.  he  was  contracted  to  a 
lady  named  Ann  Brown,  per  verba  de 
prcesenti ;  but  before  the  marriage 
was  celebrated,  he  obtained  a  dis- 
pensation, and  then  married  one 
Margaret  Mortymer  alias  Brandon,* 
living  in  the  diocese  c;f  London.  With 
her  he  cohabited.  For  some  cause — 
and  here  his  arguments  for  dissolving 
the  marriage  forcibly  remind  us  of 
those  of  his  master — he  resolved  to 
separate  from  his  wii'e,  on  the  plea 
that  they  were  in  the  second  and  third 
degrees  of  afiinity; — that  Margaret, 
and  Ann  his  first  betrothed,  were 
within  the  prohibited  degrees  of  con- 
sanguinity ; — "ac  etiam  ex  eo  [quod] 
avia  tua  et  genitor  oliin  conjugis  dicta9 
Margaret ;i'   fiator  et    soror  fuerant." 


*  I  havo  corrected  the  footnote 
here,  as  I  see  no  evidence  that  this 
lady  (notwithstanding  the  alias  of 
Brandon)  was  Snllolk's  aunt,  and  tlio 
ground  ol'  allinity  quoted  from  the  bull 
a  little  further  on  seems  to  imply  tho 
contrary. — Ed. 


96 


THE   EEIGN   OF   HPJNRY   VIII. 


[AD. 


On  Suffolk's  return  to  England  the  negociations  in  France 
fell  into  the  bands  of  West,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Ely ;  a  man 
of  great  ability,  and  not  easily  misled.  But  in  every  point 
of  bis  commission,  even  to  tbe  prevention  of  the  Duke  of 
Albany's  return  to  Scotland,  Suffolk  bad  been  foiled,  and  to 
recover  tbe  lost  ground  was  impossible.  Secure  of  bis  treaty 
witb  England,  wbicb  bad  been  signed  in  London  on  tbe  5tb 
of  April, ^  Francis  was  indifferent  to  tbe  threats  and  remon- 
strances of  West.  He  bad  agreed  to  pay  one  million  of  gold 
crowns  due  from  Lewis  XII.  to  Henry  VIII.,  and  all  otber  sums 
owing  to  Mary  for  ber  dower.  So,  having  locked  the  door  on 
bis  old  enemy,  and  with  nothing  to  fear  from  that  quarter  for 
the  present,  be  started  at  once  from  Paris,  impatient  to  carry 


The  bull  goes  on  to  state  that  the 
Duke,  considering  that  his  marriage 
was  not  legal,  stung  by  his  conscience, 
and  reflecting  that  lapse  of  time,  in- 
stead of  dimiuishing  only  increased 
his  crime,  determined  on  a  divorce, 
and  appeared  before  the  oiiicial  of  the 
archdeacon,  who,  as  Suffolk  alleges, 
pronounced  the  maiTiage  to  be  null 
and  void.  He  then  married  Ann  Brown, 
by  whom  he  had  a  daughter  named 
Ann,  whom  he  committed  to  the  care 
of  his  old  love,  Margaret  of  Savoy,  and, 
after  his  marriage  with  Mary  Queen 
dowager  of  France,  brought  home  to 
England  (II.  529).  The  pope  granted 
the  bull  as  supplementing  all  defects 
and  omissions  in  the  ecclesiastical 
courts  in  England ;  "  supplentes  omnes 
et  singulos  defectns  tam  juris  quam 
facti,  si  qui  forsan  intervenerint  in 
eisdem ;  "  and  the  Duke's  issue  by 
Ann  Brown  and  Mary  of  France  were 
thus  declared  legitimate.  To  defeat 
any  claim  on  the  part  of  his  first  wife, 
Margaret  Mortymer,  she  and  her  friends 
were  subjected  to  ecclesiastical  cen- 
sure, should  they  make  any  attempt 
to  invalidate  this  decree.  The  bull  is 
dated  Orvieto,  May  12,  1528,  just  as 
the  legate  Campeggio  was  starting  on 
his  last  mission  to  England. 

These  circumstances  give  point  to 
the  rebuke  administered  to  the  Duke 
for  his  insolence  at  the  trial  of  Katha- 
rine. He  had  never  shown  himself 
grateful,  and,  little  to  his  credit,  was 
a  main  instrument  in  Wolsey's  ruin, 
making  use  of  his  influence  with 
Francis  to  poison  the  mind  of  the 
King  against  his  former  favourite. 
Cavendish  reports  that  when  Queen 
Katharine's  trial  was  going  on  at 
Blackfriars,    "the    duke    of     Suffolk 


stepped  forth  from  the  king,  and  by 
his  commandment  spake  these  words 
with  a  stout  and  a  hault  countenance  : 
'  It  was  never  merry  in  England,'  quoth 
he,  '  whilst  we  had  cardinals  among 
us  ; '  which  words  were  set  forth  with 
such  a  vehement  countenance,  that 
all  men  marvelled  what  he  intended ; 
to  whom  no  man  made  answer.  Then 
the  duke  spoke  again  in  great  despight. 
To  the  which  words  my  Lord  Car. 
dinal,  perceiving  his  vehemency, 
soberly  made  answer  and  said  :  '  Sir, 
of  all  men  in  this  realm,  ye  have  least 
cause  to  dispraise  or  be  offended  with 
cardinals  ;  for  if  I  simple  Cardinal  had 
not  been,  you  should  have  had  at  this 
present  no  head  upon  your  shoulders, 
whei'ein  you  should  have  a  tongue  to 
make  any  such  report  in  despight  of 
us,  who  intend  you  no  manner  of 
displeasure.'  Then,  with  a  hint  at 
Suffolk's  clandestine  proceedings  in 
this  mission — a  hint  well  understood 
by  the  duke  and  the  king — Wolsey 
proceeded :  '  My  Lord,  I  pray  you, 
show  me  what  ye  would  do  if  ye  were 
the  king's  commissioner  in  a  foreign 
region,  having  a  weighty  matter  to 
treat  upon ;  would  ye  not  advertize 
the  king's  Majesty  or  ever  ye  went 
through  with  the  same  ?  *  *  *  Where- 
fore, tny  Lord,  hold  your  peace,  and 
frame  your  tongue  like  a  man  of 
honour  and  wisdom,  and  speak  not 
so  quickly  and  reproachfully  by  your 
friends  ;  Jor  ye  knoiu  best  what  friend- 
ship ye  have  received  at  my  hands,  the 
which  I  yet  never  revealed  to  no  person 
alive  before  noiv,  neither  to  my  glory, 
ne  to  your  dishonour." '  (Life  of 
Wolsey,  232).  Suffolk  was  wisely 
silent. 

•  II.  301. 


1515.]  FRANCIS    I.  97 

out  his  Italian  expedition,  leaving  West  to  follow  or  not  as  he 
pleased.  In  fact,  he  wanted  no  English  eyes  to  spy  into  his 
intentions ;  least  of  all,  eyes  so  active  and  suspicious  as 
West's.  The  Council  of  Charles  were  entirely  at  his  devotion. 
Charles  himself  had  heen  hetrothed  to  Madame  Eenee. 
Should  England,  unfaithful  to  the  treaty,  venture  to  move, 
he  had  taken  the  precaution  of  sending  Alhany  into  Scotland 
with  a  large  sum  of  money ;  and  nothing  was  easier  than  to 
endanger  and  hamper  his  rival  wdth  an  irritating  and  perti- 
nacious border  warfare,  on  the  very  verge  of  those  counties 
which  were  least  affected  to  Henry's  rule.  If  this  project 
failed  he  had  still  a  card  to  play  in  The  White  Bose,  Richard 
de  la  Pole,  the  exiled  claimant  of  the  dukedom  of  Suffolk, 
whom  Francis  fostered,  pitied,  and  cajoled  with  promises  of 
restoration  to  the  crown  of  England. 

Francis  was  now  in  his  twenty-first  year.^  His  accession 
to  the  throne  had  been  the  signal  for  all  the  ardent  and 
adventm'ous  spirits  of  the  age  to  rally  round  him,  dissatisfied 
with  that  English  alliance,  to  which  Lewis  had  ingloriously 
resigned  himself.  His  person  is  too  well  known  to  need 
description  here,  but  most  readers  will  be  surprised  to  hear 
that  Silvester  de  Giglis,  the  Bishop  of  Worcester,  not  a  favour- 
able witness,  who  had  seen  him  with  the  Pope  at  Bologna, 
describes  him  at  this  period  of  his  life  as  tall  and  broad- 
shouldered,  with  an  oval  and  handsome  face,  very  slender  in 
the  legs,  and  much  inclined  to  corpulence.^  The  contrast 
of  his  legs  to  his  stomach  seems  to  have  fastened  on  the 
memory  of  his  visitors.  Pasqualigo,  who  saw  him  in  Paris, 
gives  an  amusing  account  of  a  conversation  he  had  with 
Henry  YIII.  on  the  personal  appearance  and  manners  of  his 
cousin  of  France.^  "  His  majesty  came  to  me  and  said  :  'Is 
the  king  of  France  as  tall  as  I  am  ? '  I  told  him  there  was 
little  difference.  '  Is  he  as  stout  ?  '  I  told  him  he  was  not. 
'  What  sort  of  legs  has  he  ?  '  I  replied  '  Spare.'  Whereupon 
he  opened  the  front  of  his  doublet,  and  placing  his  hand  on 
his  thigh,  said,  '  Look  here ;  I  have  a  good  calf  to  my  leg.'  " 
Trivulcio  told  Giustinian^  that  Francis  was  so  extremely 
liberal  he  would  drain  the  very  blood  from  his  veins ;  but  his 
mother,  Louise  of  Savoy,  hoarded  money,  and  interfered  in 
everything.  He  regretted  that  the  king  was  under  petticoat 
government,  remained  so  short  a  period  at  the  council  board, 

'  Henry  was  three  years  older.  ^  J  I-  I '  1- 

^  II.  rzsi.  *  1-  ''i"o-i. 

VOL.  I.  U 


08  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

was  fond  of  amusement,  and  wasted  so  much  of  his  time  in 
his  mother's  chamber.  But  Trivulcio  belonged  to  the  old 
school,  and  was  of  a  jealous  and  suspicious  temper.  That 
the  influence  of  Louise  was  great  is  apparent  from  the  letters 
of  the  Flemish  and  English  envoys.  And  she  deserved  it,  for 
never  did  mother  more  idolize  a  son.  She  had  witnessed  the 
accession  of  him  of  whom  she  was  so  fond  and  so  proud  with 
unrestrained  delight.  "  God  has  amply  recompensed  me," 
she  writes  in  her  diary  on  that  occasion,  "  for  all  the  sorrows 
and  incommodities  I  have  endured  in  my  earlier  years. 
Humility  has  kept  me  company,  and  patience  has  never 
abandoned  me."  Her  inward  satisfaction  displayed  itself  out- 
wardly "  A  good  report,"  says  Solomon,  "maketh  the  bones 
fat,"  and  so  it  proved  with  her.  "  The  king's  mother,"  says 
Gattinara  to  Margaret  of  Savoy, ^  "  appears  to  me  much 
younger  and  fresher  looking  than  she  was  four  years  ago." 
"  Sir,"  writes  Suffolk  to  Henry  VHI.,  "  it  is  she  that  rules  all ; 
and  so  may  she  well ;  for  I  never  saw  woman  like  to  her, 
both  for  [wit],  honor,  and  dignity."^  "She  hath  a  great 
stroke  in  all  matters  with  the  King  her  son,"  he  observes  on 
another  occasion.^  In  all  his  ambitious  projects  she  en- 
couraged him  ;  she  hoarded  money,  refused  marriage,  for  his 
sake,  lavished  upon  him  all  those  epithets  which  could  rouse 
even  the  most  dormant  ambition,  "  C'est  mon  filz  glorieux  et 
triomphant  Cesar."  "  L 'exaltation  de  mon  Cesar,"  she 
murmured  to  herself  as  she  noted  down  his  exploits  in  her 
diary.  "  He  is  young,"  says  Sir  Eobert  Wingfield,  writing 
to  Henry  VHI. ,4  "  mighty,  insatiable  ;  always  reading  or  talk- 
ing of  such  enterprises  as  whet  and  inflame  himself  and  his 
hearers.  He  keepeth  no  silence ;  for  his  common  saying  is 
to  all  that  he  speaketh  with,  tliat  his  trust  is  that  by  his 
[valor  and]  industry  the  things  which  have  been  lost,  lettyn, 
[and  spoiled]  by  his  ignoble  predecessors  shall  be  recovered, 
and  that  the  monarchy  of  Christendom  shall  rest  under  the 
banner  of  France,  as  it  was  wont  to  do.  And  your  IMajesty 
may  be  sure  that  at  this  day  it  is  no  small  part  of  that 
kingdom  that  would  the  same  were  true." 

In  this  temper  and  with  these  incitements,  Francis  now 
started  on  the  conquest  of  IVIilan.  He  kept  all  his  plans  to 
himself,  not  disclosing  his  intentions  even  to  his  best  allies, 
the  Venetians.     All  correspondence  with  England  ceased.     In 

»  Feb.  4,  1515,  in  Le  Glay's  Ndgoc.  '  II.  105. 

«  II.  82.  "  II.  2536. 


1515.] 


FRENCH   INVASION   OF   ITALY. 


99 


vain  Wolsey  and  the  King  fretted  and  fumed  at  this  galling 
neglect,  which  wore  the  air  of  contempt ;  in  vain  they  treated 
with  an  ill-assumed  indifference  the  rumour  that  Francis  was 
meditating  the  conquest  of  Italy  without  communicating  his 
intentions  to  them.  "  Sir  ambassador,"  exclaimed  Henry, 
pale  with  anger,  to  Giustinian,  who  had  announced  ^  to  him 
with  malicious  candour  the  departure  of  Francis  from  Lyons, 
"  the  French  King  will  not  go  into  Italy  this  year,  though  he 
Bays  so.  I  believe  he  is  afraid  of  me,  and  that  will  prevent 
him  from  crossing  the  Alps."  On  Sebastian  stating  that  the 
French  King  was  adored  by  his  subjects,  "  By  God  !  "  exclaimed 
Henry,  "  he  gives  them  poor  reason  to  love  him,  running  thus 
at  the  very  commencement  of  his  reign  into  the  toil  and 
charges  of  war."  "  The  King  of  France  never  cares,"  says 
Wolsey  to  the  same  ambassador  three  days  after,  "  to  ask  aid 
of  England ;  he  omits  to  make  us  the  least  communication  of 
his  intentions,  showing  in  how  small  account  he  holds  his 
Majesty.  Think,  sir  ambassador,  whether  this  is  to  be  borne, 
and  say  if  these  are  the  fashions  of  confederates  !  "  ^  Now 
and  then  Louise  sent  a  letter  so  well  timed  as  to  come  too 
late  to  do  mischief,  offering  ample  amends  for  any  apparent 
injury  or  neglect.  Piegardless  of  all  idle  menaces  Francis 
held  on  his  way.  Ferdinand,  who  had  already  been  in  treaty^ 
with  Francis  to  secure  his  late  conquest  of  Navarre,  was  too 
old  and  too  ill  to  offer  serious  opposition.  Maximilian  wasted 
the  time  in  hunting  or  coquetting  with  the  Princess  of 
Hungary,^  a  young  girl  not  yet  in  her  teens.  "  The  Emperor," 
said  Pope  Julius,  "is  fickle  and  inconstant;  he  is  always 
dunning  for  money,  which  he  spends  in  hunting  the  chamois ; 
yet  he  must  be  conciliated  in  the  devil's  name,^  and  money 
always  provided  for  him."  ^  From  him  there  was  no  danger. 
So  Francis,  the  new  Cid,  started  from  Lyons  for  Grenoble  at 
the  end  of  July.  The  passes  in  Italy  had  already  been  occu- 
pied by  the  Swiss  under  their  captain  general,  Galeazzo 
Yisconti.    Galeazzo '  makes  their  number  not  more  than  6,000, 


»  Julv  3,  1515. 

2  11.^66. 

3  II.  685. 

*  Anne,  daufrTiter  of  Ladislaus  VTT. 
of  IInnf!:ary,  afterward.s  marriofl  to 
Ferdinand  of  Austria,  brother  of 
Ci^iarles  V.,  who  became  King  of 
Hungary  in  her  right. 

'  "  Conciliandus  nomine  diaboli. 

•  II.  1876. 

'  See  his  letter,  II.   1349.     Guic- 


ciardini  reckons  them  at  20,000  ;  half 
of  whom  kept  the  passes.  Tlie 
French  were  more  than  double  the 
number.  But  in  such  warfare  ijositiou 
was  more  than  number.  "The  king 
of  Arrairon,  fearing  at  first"  (says 
Giiicciai-dini)  "lost  such  groat  pre- 
parations should  bo  made  against 
him,  had  armed  his  frontiers,  and 
])erpetually  united  the  realm  of 
Navarre    to   that   of   Castile ;    but  as 


100  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY    VHI.  [A.D. 

in  consequence  of  the  defection  of  Berne,  Friburg  and  Soleure, 
who  had  gone  home  from  want  of  pay.  They  were  posted  at 
Susa,  commanding  the  two  roads  from  Mont  Cenis  and 
Geneva,  by  one  of  which  the  French  must  pass  or  abandon 
their  artillery.  In  this  perplexity  it  was  proposed  by  Triulcio 
to  force  a  lower  passage  across  the  Cottian  Alps  leading  to 
Saluzzo.  The  attempt  was  attended  with  almost  insurmount- 
able difficulties.  There  was  no  regular  road  ; — every  foot  of 
ground  had  to  be  gained  hand  to  hand  by  pioneers,  filling  up 
ravines  and  undermining  rocks  or  fencing  the  dangerous 
sloj)es,  as  they  dragged  their  heavy  guns  with  toilsome  march 
to  the  steep  summits  of  the  mountains.  Arrived  at  the  top, 
the  prospect  was  still  more  formidable.  The  mountain  sloped 
to  the  bottom  with  sharp  and  projecting  cliffs,  unsafe  for  the 
giddy  footing  even  of  an  unencumbered  passenger.  Men  in 
armour  fell  headlong  into  the  abyss  ;  horses  plunged  and 
struggled  in  vain  with  their  unmanageable  burthens,  lost 
their  footing,  and  rolled  thundering  over  the  precipice  with 
guns,  carriages,  and  drivers.  But  the  French  troops  with 
wonderful  spirits  and  alacrity — never  mounting  higher  than 
when  they  have  to  overcome  the  most  formidable  natural 
difficulties — were  not  to  be  baffled.  They  dropped  their 
artillery  by  cables  from  steep  to  steep  ;  down  one  range  of 
mountains  and  up  another,  until  five  days  had  been  spent  in 
this  perilous  enterprise,  and  they  found  themselves  safe  in  the 
plains  of  Saluzzo.  Hapi^ily  the  Swiss,  secure  in  their  position 
at  Susa,  had  never  dreamed  of  the  possibility  of  such  a 
passage.  The  men-at-arms  and  the  foot  under  La  Palice 
clambered  over  the  rocks,  some  by  one  passage  and  some 
another. 

Prosper  Colonna,  who  commanded  in  Italy  for  the  Pope, 
was  sitting  down  to  his  comfortable  dinner  at  Villa  Franca 
when  a  scout  covered  with  dust  dashed  into  his  apartment 
announcing  that  the  French  had  crossed  the  Alps.  The  next 
minute  the  town  was  filled  with  the  advanced  guard,  under  the 
Sieur  d'Ymbercourt  and  the  celebrated  Bayard.  The  Swiss 
at  Susa  had  still  the  advantage  of  position,  and  might  have 
hindered  the  passage  of  the  main  body  of  the  French ;  but 
they  had  no  horse  to  transport  their  artillery,  were  badly  led, 

soon  as  he  found  that  the  war  was  in.  had  done  of  all  covenants  and  con- 
tended for  Italy,  he  dismissed  all  the  tracts  made  to  them  the  years  before." 
companies  he  had  levied,  holding  no  The  accuiacy  of  Guicciardini  in  this 
more  reckoning  of  his  promises,  made  part  of  his  narrative  is  exactly  borne 
that  year  to  his  confederates,  than  he  out  by  the  contemporary  documents. 


1515.]  THE   FKENCH   CROSS   THE  ALPS.  101 

and  evident!}^  divided  in  their  councils.  They  retired  upon 
Novara  without  accompHshing  any  other  feat  except  that  of 
sacking  and  plundering  Chivasso  and  Vercelli.  In  fact  the 
hrilliant  enterprise  and  audacity  of  the  French  in  crossing  the 
Cottian  Alps  had  won  for  them  the  victory,  and  dazzled  and 
dismayed  the  confederates.  Cardona,  the  Spanish  viceroy, 
lingered  in  Verona  ;  Leo  temporized  and  hesitated  in  his 
plans ;  the  Gallicizing  Swiss  at  Novara  openly  advocated  the 
French  cause,  and  the  dissension  was  increased  by  the  back- 
wardness of  Ferdinand  in  sending  the  pay  he  had  promised 
them. 

There  was  in  the  armies  of  the  Swiss,  now  constantly 
recruited  by  fresh  and  hungry  adventurers,  an  ecclesiastic 
named  Matthew  Scheiner,  Cardinal  of  Sion,  who  plays  an 
important  part  in  the  transactions  of  this  particular  period. 
He  was  a  man  of  inexhaustible  activity,  of  rough  and  ready 
eloquence,  and  highly  esteemed  by  his  countrymen.  He 
hated,  or  at  least  affected  to  hate  the  French,  with  a  hatred 
that  nothing  could  extinguish.  The  Swiss  were  now  at  Milan, 
intending  to  effect  a  junction  with  the  viceroy  of  Naples,  who 
had  advanced  to  Cremona.  Early  in  the  morning  of  the  13th 
of  September,  Sion  called  the  troops  together  at  beat  of  drum, 
^  in  the  courtyard  of  the  castle  of  Milan  ;  then,  mounting  a 
chair  in  the  midst  of  them,  he  harangued  them  on  the  valour 
and  glory  of  their  nation.^  They  were,  he  exclaimed,  the  real 
rulers  of  this  world  :  they  it  was  who  dispensed  crowns  and 
empires ;  without  them  no  prince  could  be  assured  of  his 
dominions,  and  with  them  the  weakest  might  j^romise  himself 
assured  victory.  He  enlarged  upon  their  conquests  in  Italy, 
reminded  them  how  popes  and  kings  had  sought  their  alliance, 
and  ended  by  pointing  to  the  French  camp  and  promising 
them  an  easy  conquest.^  "  There,"  said  he,  "  are  treasures 
sufficient  to  enrich  you  all  for  life ;  glory  enough  to  make  you 
the  most  redoubtable  nation  on  the  face  of  the  earth."  It 
was  in  vain  that  Galeazzo  and  others  more  experienced  in 
these  matters  denounced  the  folly  of  the  enterprize,  and 
advised  delay .^  Sion's  speech  was  received  with  enthusiastic 
cries ;   hogsheads  of  wine  were   broken   up   and   distributed 

'  "  Corame  tin  reynard  qui  picfiche  employed  by  ITcnry  VIII.,  but   tlipy 

les  poules,"  HayH  Fleuranges,  ch.  50.  never    could    a^'n-c.     Their    iiitripieH 

^  Marillac,   V.  de  Bourbon,  158,  ed.  with  tlic  KwisH  and  llie  French  occiipy 

Bucbon.  many    pages    in    this   vuhaiio    of    tlio 

*  See  Galeazzo's  letter  (II.  1349).  calendar. 
Sion   and   Galeazzo   were   afterwards 


102  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

among  the  troops  ;  the  cornet  de  hoeiif  sounded  the  rendez- 
vous through  the  camp  and  the  streets  of  Milan/  and  every 
man  hurried  forward,  anxious  to  be  the  first  to  assail  and 
plunder  the  French.  The  French  camp  was  at  Marignano, 
about  twelve  miles  distant.  The  day  was  hot  and  dusty. 
The  advanced  guard  of  the  French  was  under  the  command  of 
the  Constable  of  Bourbon,  whose  vigilance  defeated  any 
advantage  the  Swiss  might  otherwise  have  gained  by  the 
suddenness  and  rapidity  of  their  movements.  At  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  as  Bourbon  was  sitting  down  at  table,  a  scout, 
dripping  with  water,  made  his  appearance.  He  had  left  Milan 
only  a  few  hours  be^re,  had  waded  the  canals,  and  came  to 
announce  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  Bom^bon  ordered  his 
horse,  and  galloped  to  the  King's  quarter.  As  they  stood  dis- 
cussing the  probability  of  the  news,  a  gentleman-at-arms  rode 
up,  saying  that  a  great  cloud  of  dust  had  been  seen  in  the 
direction  of  Milan.^  The  Swiss  came  on  apace  ;  they  had  dis- 
encumbered themselves  of  their  hats  and  caps,  and  thrown  off 
their  shoes,  the  better  to  fight  without  slipping.  They  made 
a  dash  at  the  French  artillery,  and  were  foiled  after  hard 
fighting,  though  Galeazzo  avers  that  they  cajitured  fifteen 
great  guns,  and  drove  the  French  back  half  a  mile.^  Marillac, 
who  was  with  Bourbon  that  day,  admits  that  the  French  could 
make  no  impression  on  the  main  body  of  the  Swiss,  who 
fought  with  such  obstinacy  and  determination,  that  the  French 
recoiled,  and  at  one  time  gave  over  the  battle  for  lost.  It  was 
an  autumnal  afternoon ;  the  sun  had  gone  down ;  dust  and 
night-fall  separated  and  confused  the  combatants.  The  French 
trumpets  sounded  a  retreat ;  both  armies  couched  down  in  the 
darkness  within  cast  of  a  tennis-ball  of  each  other.*  The 
cornets  de  vache  of  the  Swiss  blared  and  brayed  through  the 
night,  answered  by  the  French  trumpets  and  clarions.  Where 
they  fought,  there  each  man  laid  down  to  rest  when  darkness 
came  on,  within  hand-grip  of  his  foe ; — foot-soldier  pike  in 
hand,  the  horseman  in  the  saddle,  the  gunner  with  his  lin- 
stock, longing  for  the  dawn. 

It  was  Friday  morning ;  ^  the  autumnal  mist  crawled  slowly 

'  Fleuranges,  cap.  50.  charg'e,  for  that  they  had  no  oppor- 

^  Marillac,  p.  158.  tunity  to  carry  them  away." 

'  II.  1349.     Whether  it  was  so,  or  *  "  Si  prez,"  says  Francis,  writing 

that  Galeazzo  made  capital  of  the  cur-  to  Louise,   "  que  j'eusse  bien  tiro  un 

rent  report  of  their  capture,  I  cannot  eteuf,  et  n'y  a.vait  qn'un  fosse  entre 

decide.      Guicciardini,  speaking  of  the  deux."     It  was  pitch  dark,  and  there 

retreat  of  the  Swiss,  states  :    "  Some  was  no  moon  that  night, 

say  they  buried    15    pieces    of   great  ^  Sept.  14. 
artillery,  which  they  won  at  the  first 


1515.]  BATTLE   OF   MAEIGNANO.  103 

away,  and  once  more  exposed  the  combatants  to  each  other's 
view.  The  advantage  of  the  ground  was  on  the  side  of  the 
French.  They  were  drawn  up  in  a  valley  protected  by  a  ditch 
full  of  water.  Though  the  Swiss  had  taken  no  refreshment 
that  night/  they  renewed  the  fight  with  unimpaired  animosity 
and  vigour.  A  party  of  them  broke  into  the  French  camp, 
and  found  their  way  to  Bourbon's  quarters,  where  they  fell  to 
rifling  the  provisions  and  the  wine-casks,  and  were  burnt  to 
death  in  the  cellars  and  magazines.  Another  band  lost  their 
way.  Francis,  surrounded  by  a  body  of  mounted  gentlemen, 
performed  prodigies  of  valour.  The  night  had  given  him 
opportunity  for  the  better  arrangement  of  his  troops ;  ^  and 
as  the  day  wore  on,  and  the  sun  grew  hot,  the  Swiss,  though 
"  marvellously  deliberate,  brave,  and  obstinate,"  began  to  give 
way.  The  arrival  of  the  Venetian  general,  D'Alviano,  with 
fresh  troops,  made  the  French  victory  complete.^ 

But  the  Swiss  retreated  inch  by  inch  with  the  greatest 
deliberation,  carrying  off  their  great  guns  on  their  shoulders  ; 
their  helmets,  their  armour,  and  every  part  of  their  person 
which  was  unprotected  was  covered  with  the  shafts  of  the 
Gascon  cross-bowmen,  who  did  great  execution.  The  French 
were  too  exhausted  to  follow.  And  their  victory  had  cost 
them  dear ;  for  the  Swiss,  with  peculiar  hatred  to  the  French 
gentry  and  the  lance-knights,  had  shown  no  mercy.  They 
spared  none,  and  made  no  prisoners.^ 

The  glory  of  the  battle  was  great,  and  that  at  a  time  when 
such  glory  was  most  coveted,  and  war  opened  the  only  road  to 
distinction.  At  that  day  there  was  not  a  sovereign  in  Europe 
who  did  not  envy  Francis  the  fame  he  had  acquired  in  this  his 
first  battle.  His  old  censor,  Trivulcio,  who  accused  him  of 
lying  in  bed  too  late,  and  wasting  his  time  in  his  mother's 
chamber,  admitted  that  this  battle  had  been  fought  not  by 
men  but  by  giants,^  and  that  the  eighteen  battles  at  which  he 
had  been  present  were  but  the  squabbles  of  little  children  in 

Such   is    Galeazzo's    statement.  ^  Francis   had   not  taken   off   his 

Gnicciardini  says  that  Sion  had  pro-  armour  all  night,  but  threw  himself  to 

visions    brought    them    from     Milan.  sloop  for  a  few  hours  on  a  gun-carriage. 

The  two  statements  are  not  so  irre-  (Du  Hellay.) 

concileable   as  they  miglit  appear  at  ^  D'Alviano  arrived  on  the  field  at 

first  sight.     It  is  difficult  to  see  how  ten  in  the  morning;  but  tlio  Swiss  were 

refreshments    could    be    brought    in  already  retiring.      (Du  Bellay.)     The 

sufficient    quantity,    and    effectually  fight  lasted  till  noon.     (Galeazzo.) 

distributed,  at  so  short  a  notice,  and  *  "  Us  ne  s'ei)ergnoient  jwint,  non 

in  so  dark  a   night.     It  is   admitted  plus  quo  sangliers  echauffos,"  remarks 

on  all  hands  that  the  Swiss  despised  Francis, 

the  French,  and  promised  themselves  "  Guicciardini. 
an  easy  victoiy. 


104  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D.  1515. 

comparison  with  this.  The  Swiss,  the  best  troops  in  Europe 
and  hitherto  reckoned  invincible,  had  been  beaten  by  the  men 
they  despised  as  effeminate,  whom  they  called  in  derision 
"  hares  in  armour."  ^  They  had  been  the  terror  and  scourge 
of  Italy,  equally  formidable  to  friend  and  foe,  and  now  their 
prestige  was  extinguished.  But  it  was  not  in  these  merely 
military  aspects  that  the  battle  of  Marignano  was  important. 
No  one  who  reads  the  French  chronicles  of  the  times,  can  fail 
to  perceive  that  it  was  a  battle  of  opinions  and  of  classes  even 
more  than  of  nations;  of  a  fierce  and  rising  democratical 
element,  now  rolled  back  for  a  short  season,  only  to  display 
itself  in  another  form  against  royalty  and  nobility; — of  the 
burgher  classes  against  feudality.  When  Sion  inflamed  the 
fierce  passions  of  the  Swiss  by  telhng  them  that  they  were 
the  real  dispensers  of  power,  he  spoke  a  language  which,  in 
one  form  or  another,  had  been  silently  making  its  way  to  the 
hearts  of  the  lower  orders  throughout  all  the  nations  of 
Europe.  The  old  romantic  element,  overlaid  for  a  time  by 
the  pohtical  convulsions  of  the  last  century,  had  once  more 
gained  the  ascendant.  It  was  to  blaze  forth  and  revive,  before 
it  died  out  entirely,  in  the  Sydneys  and  Ealeighs  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  reign  ;  it  was  to  hghten  up  the  glorious  imagina- 
tion of  Spenser  before  it  faded  into  the  dull  prose  of  Puritan 
divinity,  and  the  cold  grey  dawn  of  inductive  philosophy. 
But  its  last  great  battle  was  the  battle  of  Marignano. 

>  "  Efc  vous  assenre,  Madame,  que  cntion."    (Francis  to  Madame  Louise.) 

j'aiveuleslansquentsmesurer  la  pique  He    also    admits,    in    common    with 

aaxSuisses,  la  lance  aux  gens  d'arrues;  Guicciardini,      that      the      seneschal 

et  ne  dira-on  plus  que  les  gens  d'armes  d'Armagnac,  in  charge  of  the  artillery, 

sont  lievres  amies,  car  sans  point  de  had     contributed     greatly    to     their 

faute,  ce  sont  eux  qui  ont  fait  I'exe-  success. 


(     105    ) 


CHAPTER  IV. 

EFFECTS    OF    THE    BATTLE    OF    MARIGNANO. 

The  news  of  the  battle  of  Marignano  was  received  in  the 
different  courts  of  EuroiDe  with  very  different  emotions.  Leo 
for  a  time  left  off  his  intrigues,  and  hastened  to  make  his 
peace  with  the  conqueror.  Charles  sent  letters  of  congratula- 
tion ;  Ferdinand  trembled  for  his  possessions  in  the  South  of 
Italy,  and  for  the  effects  of  that  selfish  policy  which  had 
deprived  him  of  effectual  help  when  he  most  required  it.  To 
Erasmus,  then  at  Basle,  busy  with  his  New  Testament,  the 
defeat  of  the  Swiss  furnished  pleasant  matter  for  jesting.^ 
"Our  friends,  the  Swiss,"  he  writes,  "are  in  a  great  fume, 
because  the  French  would  not  politely  allow  themselves  to  be 
beatem  as  they  were  beaten  by  you  English,  but  sent  many 
of  them  to  the  right  about  with  their  great  guns.  They  have 
returned  home  fewer  in  number  than  when  they  started ; 
ragged,  gaunt,  disfigured  and  wounded,  their  ensigns  torn, 
their  festal  songs  turned  into  funeral  dirges."  Giustinian, 
the  Venetian  ambassador,  gleeful  as  a  schoolboy  when  he 
could  throw  grit  into  Wolsey's  bread,  was  not  sorry  at  the 
opportunity  of  carrying  him  the  tidings.  At  first  Wolsey  had 
persuaded  himself  that  Francis  would  never  pass  into  Italy  ; 
when  that  hope  failed,  he  had  assured  himself,  on  the  faith  of 
letters  received  from  Brussels,  that  Francis  must  inevitably 
be  defeated.  On  the  25th  of  September,  eleven  days  after  the 
victory  at  Marignano,  he  had  told  Sebastian,  on  his  asking 
the  news,^  that  he  had  letters  from  Brussels  of  the  ISth,""^ 
quoting  advices  from  Verona  of  the  12th,  and  describing  the 
perilous  position  of  the  Most  Christian  King.  He  lamented,  in 
pathetic  terms,  the  ruin  which  he  foresaw  must  ensue  from 
the  mad  folly  of  a  misguided  young  man,  and  the  pertinacity 
of  the  Venetians  in  not  abandoning  the  French  alliance.     On 

»  II.  985.  ^  Tliis  must  bo  Spinelly'a  letter  of 

*  He  had  jnst  been  made  Cardinal,       tlio  19th.     See  No.  1)27. 
and  was  more  thau  usually  gracioua. 


106  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

the  11th  of  October,  as  Wolsey  still  affected  to  disbelieve  the 
news  of  the  French  victory,  Giustinian  had  the  satisfaction  of 
assuring  him  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  the  fact.  The  King 
had  been  duly  notified  of  the  victory  by  Francis  himself  and 
his  mother  Louise,  but,  with  extraordinary  pertinacity,  refused 
to  credit  the  unwelcome  tidings.^  With  an  incredulity  almost 
childish,  he  treated  the  letters  as  forgeries,  and  the  report  as 
a  political  canard  got  up  by  the  French  to  suit  their  own 
purposes.  In  order  to  disabuse  him  Francis  sent  an  agent  to 
England,  named  De  Bapaume,  with  Guienne  herald.  The 
envoy's  account  of  his  reception  presents  an  accurate  and 
lively  picture  of  the  King  himself,  and  the  conflicting  emotions 
of  the  court.  Henry  was  then  building  his  great  galley,  called 
The  Virgin  Mary,  in  honour  of  the  French  Queen.^  The 
report  is  addressed  to  Louise  of  Savoy. 

"  Madam,  on  Thursday  last,  the  25th  of  this  month,^  I  received  the 
letters  which  you  were  pleased  to  send  me  by  the  present  bearer,  Guyenne 
herakl,  dated  the  18th.  And  as  the  hour  was  late,  and  the  king  of 
Enghmd,  the  two  queens,  and  the  council  were  gone  to  the  great  galley, 
I  could  not  on  that  day  accomplish  your  commands,  or  do  what  was  con- 
tained in  your  letters.  The  next  day  before  I  left  there  arrived  a  servant 
of  M.  de  la  Fayette,  captain  of  Boulogne,  who  brought  other  letters  of 
yours,  dated  the  16th,  with  a  cipher  enclosed. 

"Forthwith,  Madam,  I  departed  from  this  town  in  company  with  the  said 
herald,  and  visited  the  said  king  of  England  in  his  chateau  at  Greenwich. 
And  after  I  had  made  him  the  most  cordial  x"ecommendations  from  my 
master  and  yourself,  the  herald  presented  his  Majesty  with  the  two  letters 
written  by  the  king.  He  did  not  take  any  great  pleasure  in  reading 
them  ;  for  it  seemed,  to  look  at  him,  as  if  tears  would  have  burst  from  his 
eyes,  so  red  were  they  from  the  pain  he  suffered  in  hearing  and  under- 
standing the  good  news  and  prosperity  of  my  master,  who  had  advertised 
him  thereof  by  his  letters.*  .   .   . 

' '  Madam,  after  reading  the  said  letters,  the  king  of  England  called  me 
apart,  and  privately  asked  me  what  news  there  was  from  the  king  of 
Arragon,  and  whether  the  king  my  master  intended  to  make  war  on  him 
for  the  kingdom  of  Naples.  I  replied,  I  thought  not,  and  that  I  neither 
knew  nor  had  heard  anything  about  it.  I  had  been  given  to  understand 
that  my  master  would  return  from  Italy  into  France  with  his  army,  at 
the  feast  of  All  Saints,  or  soon  after.  On  this  he  told  me,  he  understood 
so  from  the  king's  letters.  Then  he  asked  me  about  the  arrangements 
with  the  Pope.  I  told  him  they  were  made  and  concluded.  He  replied  : 
It  was  not  so  ;  for  the  contrary  was  the  case,  and  the  Pope  had  yet  to 
ratify,  and  he  knew  better  than  I  ;  for  my  master  and  you  would  have  let 
him  know  if  it  had  been  so.     Then  he  asked  me  about  the  Emperor  ; 

1  Sir  Richard   Wingfield  had  sent  ^  II.  1113. 

the  news  from  Calais  on  the  27th  of  ^  He  means  October. 

September  (see   II.   953),  but  it  was  *   "  Et  en  icelles  lisant  il  ny  prenoit 

not    believed    in  England  until  some  pas     grant     plaisir,    tellement    qu'il 

time  after,  and  Spinelly  kept  up  the  sembloit,  a  le  veoir,  queles  larmes  luy 

delusion   (see    II.    958).     This   is  the  deussent  tumber  des  yeulx,  tant  les 

more  remarkable  as  it  was  known  at  avait  rouges  de  la  paine  qu'il  souffi'oit," 

Brussels  at  least  as  early  as  the  23rd.  etc. 


1515.]  HOW   HEXEY   RECEIVED   THE  NEWS.  107 

where  he  was,  and  what  he  was  doing  ?  1  told  him  I  had  heard  no  news 
of  him  ;  only  I  had  learnt  from  some  private  persons  that  he  was  seekino- 
the  friendship  of  the  king  my  master.  Then  his  Majesty  said  he  knew 
well  where  he  was,  and  what  he  was  about ;  and  as  for  seeking  the  friend- 
ship of  the  king  my  master,  quite  the  contrary  was  the  truth  :  and  there 
he  stojiped. 

"He  next  inquired  how  many  Swiss  had  fallen  in  the  battle.  To 
which  I  made  answer,  about  20,000.  This  assertion  he  would  not  believe, 
although  Guyenne  herald  assured  him  of  it.  He  protested  that  not  more 
than  10,000  Swiss,  who  formed  the  vanguard,  fought  with  the  king  and 
his  army  ;  and  that  ihe  rearguard,  which  contained  the  great  body  of  the 
Swiss,  took  no  part  in  the  engagement,  nor  struck  a  single  blow  ;  for  the 
king  or  his  j^redecessors  had  bribed  them,  and  made  an  agreenient  with 
them.  His  Majesty  asserted  he  was  well  informed  of  this  by  letters  from 
persons  present  at  the  battle,  who  had  written  the  truth  of  the  matter. 
On  this  the  Admiral  (Surrey),  and  other  lords  and  gentlemen  who  were 
present,  seeing  that  the  king  could  not  dissemble  his  resentment,  or  even 
pretend  to  take  pleasure  in  the  prosperity  of  his  ally,  began  saying  that 
he  ought  to  be  very  joyful  that  the  king,  his  good  brother  and  ally,  had 
defeated  the  Swiss,  who  were  so  tierce  and  haughty  that  they  liad 
presumed  to  name  themselves  the  rulers  and  correctors  of  princes  ; — that 
the  gloiy  and  reno-ivn  of  all  gentlemen  and  nobles  were  extinguished  and 
annihilated  by  their  usurpation  and  arrogance  ; — with  other  words  to  this 
effect.  Hereupon  his  Majesty  said,  that  certainly  he  was  very  glad,  for 
the  Swiss  wtre  nothing  hut  villains,  and  he  had  ever  known  them  to 
be  such  ;  and  the  lansquenetz,  whom  he  called  Almains,  were  greatly 
superior,  and  better  soldiers  than  they.  And  he  asked  me,  now  that 
Christian  j^rinces  were  agreed  and  on  good  tenns,  what  better  could  they 
do  than  make  war  upon  the  Turk  ?  Hereupon  all  present  gave  their 
advice,  concluding  that  it  would  be  well  so  to  do,  saying  that  the  kings  of 
France  and  of  England  were  young  and  powerful,  and  that  since 
Charlemagne  there  had  not  been  in  Christendom  any  princes  who  could 
do  it  better  than  they.  This  discourse  was  long  kept  up.  ...  At  the 
king's  departure  I  asked  him  if  he  would  be  jjleased  to  write  to  my 
master.  He  answered.  Yes  ;  and  to  that  end  he  would  send  the  letters 
of  the  king  to  his  council.   .   .   . 

"Madam,  after  this  I  went  immediately  to  my  lord  the  Duke  of 
Sufiblk,  who  was  at  the  said  chateau ;  to  whom  I  communicated  all  the 
news.  He  answered  me  much  more  civilly  than  the  king,  and  told  me  he 
was  as  glad  of  the  prosperity  of  the  king  my  master  as  any  man  in  the 
kingdom  of  France,  if  not  more  so  ;  praying  me  to  make  his  humble 
recommendations  to  you.  I  reminded  him  of  the  kind  treatment  the  king 
had  shown  him  in  France,  and  the  good  words  they  had  had  togetlier,  as 
you  charged  me  in  your  letters.  He  told  me  it  was  true,  and  for  this 
cause  he  reputed  himself  obliged  to  do  the  king  more  pleasure  and  service 
than  any  other  prince.  And  then  1  declared  to  him  the  contents  of  the 
cipher  which  you  had  sent  ;  pointing  oiit  to  him  the  things  which  were 
being  done  over  here,  as  well  by  land  as  by  sea.  He  told  me  it  was 
true  that  the  king  of  England  had  made  an  appearance  of  preparing 
himself  for  war,  and  for  this  cause  liad  got  ready  a  small  number  of  ships, 
and  on  land  had  likewise  shown  some  diligence  in  assembhng  men,  and 
having  them  ready  ;  but  this  he  had  done  solely  to  content  liis  .sul)jec't.s, 
who  desired  in  my  master's  absence  that  England  should  go  to  war  with 
him  ;  but  the  king  himself  had  no  such  inclination.  The  duke  said  the 
king  of  England  would  maintain  the  peace  and  amity  between  the  two 
kingdoms  ;  and  there  was  nothing  so  nuicli  to  l)e  desired  as  that  tliey 
shoidd  see  each  other  and  speak  together  ;  and  he  will  never  rest  till  tliiH 
come  to  pass  ;  for  he  is  of  opinion  that  after  that  there  will  never  arise 
any  question  or  debate  between  tliem  ;  an<l  he  prayed  me  to  write  these 
thing.s  to  the  king  and  yourself,  and  to  return  to  him  at  hia  liouse  near 


108  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

this  town  immediately  after  the  feast  of  All  Saints,  when  he  would  send 
for  me,  and  speak  more  plainly  to  me  of  this  matter. 

"I  left  him,  and,  accompanied  with  the  herald,  went  to  my  lord  the 
Cardinal  of  York,  being  at  Westminster,  whom  likewise  I  informed  of  the 
good  news  of  the  king  and  his  prosperity.  He  told  me  he  rejoiced  at  it, 
and  that  he  esteemed  the  victory  of  the  king  and  his  success  as  much  as  if 
they  had  been  the  king's  his  master,  by  reason  of  the  alliance  and  friend- 
ship between  them.  He  thanked  the  king  and  you  for  making  him 
participator  of  the  news,  and  said  he  was  pleased  to  hear  it  above  all 
tilings  in  the  world.  Then  I  gave  him  to  understand  the  contents  of 
your  cii^her,  and  told  him  that  if  he  and  the  king  of  England  thought 
that  the  king  my  master  at  his  departvire  into  Italy  had  not  left  his 
kingdom  strong  and  powerful,  and  chiefly  the  towns  on  the  frontiers,  they 
had  been  greatly  deceived  ;  although  the  king  had  never  thought  that  the 
king  of  England  would  attempt  to  invade  his  country  and  make  war  upon 
him  in  his  absence,  considering  the  treaty  of  peace  and  amity  existing 
between  them.  On  this  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  breast,  and  swore  to  me 
that  the  king  his  master  had  never  thought  of  such  a  thing,  nor  his 
council  ;  and  as  for  the  ships  which  he  had  prepared  during  this  time,  and 
chiefly  his  great  galley,  that  was  done  solely  to  give  pleasure  and  jiastime 
to  the  queen  and  queen  Mary  his  sister  ;  and  that  it  was  true  that  on 
Thursday  last  the  king,  the  said  queens,  and  all  the  council  had  dined  on 
board,  and  made  the  greatest  cheer  and  triumph  that  could  be  devised. 
And  with  regard  to  preparations  by  land,  the  king  of  England  had  done 
nothing  with  intent  to  make  war  on  Fi-ance  or  on  Scotland,  but  only  for 
the  purpose  of  keeping  himself  ready  for  all  contingencies  ;  for  if  the  king 
his  master  had  resolved  on  making  war  upon  the  Scotch,  he  would  have 
done  so  by  land,  and  not  by  sea.  In  saying  this,  however,  he  did  not 
mean  to  have  it  understood  that,  if  the  duke  of  Albany  did  not  abstain 
from  the  injuries  and  violent  dealing  he  had  used  towards  the  queen  of 
Scotland,  his  master's  sister,  and  her  children,  and  if  he  did  not  make 
amends  for  the  same,  the  king  of  England  would  not  endeavour,  when 
time  and  place  offered,  to  make  him  acknowledge  and  repair  them,  as  he 
had  formerly  told  me,  and  charged  me  to  write  to  you  ;  but  on  his  faith 
there  was  not  at  present  any  such  thing  in  meditation.  Both  the  cardinal 
and  the  duke  of  Suflblk  advised  me  not  to  speak  to  the  king  of  this,  for 
fear  he  should  entertain  some  suspicion.  So  I  have  deferred  doing  so  till 
it  please  you  to  send  me  further  instructions. 

"Madam,  when  the  answers  of  the  cardinal  and  the  duke  of  Suffolk, 
who  do  not  agree,  are  weighed  and  considered  by  you,  you  will  take  such 
counsel  as  you  may  think  best.  I  am  and  shall  always  be  of  opinion  that 
if  the  king  my  master  had  met  with  worse  success  in  Italy,  the  king  of 
England  would  have  certainly  prepared  with  all  his  power  to  descend  upon 
France  ;  this  is  now  quite  common  and  well  known  over  here.  But,  God 
be  thanked,  it  is  no  longer  necessary  to  think  of  such  things, ^  for  all  is 
changed  with  our  good  fortune  ;  and  as  for  Scotland,  if  war  is  to  take 
place  there,  it  cannot  be  within  six  months  and  more  from  this  date, 
because  there  will  not  be  sufficient  time  for  it. 

"  I  wrote  to  you  that  the  Great  Chamberlain  of  Scotland  (Hume)  had 
been  taken  prisoner  by  the  duke  of  Albany  ;  and  such  was  the  fact  :  but 
the  Cardinal  has  since  told  me,  he  has  escaped,  and  is  at  present  in  this 
kingdom.  The  Cardinal  informed  me  that  the  duke  of  Albany  had 
delivered  him  into  the  custody  of  the  earl  of  Arran,  who  has  married  the 
Chamberlain's  sister,  and  the  said  earl  released  him  without  the  know- 
ledge of  the  duke  ;  and  he  and  the  said  earl  came  away  into  this  kingdom, 
where  they  remain  at  present  with  the  queen  of  Scotland  ;  by  reason  of 
which,  as  the  same  Cardinal  said,  they  are  at  this  time  more  mutinous 
in  Scotland  than  ever  ;  and  though  the  greatest  part  was  heretofore  with 

*  "  II  ne  s'en  fault  plus  donner  de  mal  temps." 


1515.]  THE   FRENCH   AMBASSADOR'S   SUSPICIONS.  109 

the  said  lord  of  Albanj^  thej-  have  now  abandoned  him,  and  he  is  much 
reduced.  So,  in  spite  of  him,  the  uncle  of  the  said  chamberlain  and 
others  his  relatives  and  friends  were  at  liberty  and  released  from  prison. 
Subsequently  I  made  enquiiy  of  the  herald  of  arms  of  Scotland  to  know 
if  this  was  the  case,  who  told  me  he  did  not  know  for  certain,  but  he 
believed  it  was  not.   .   .   . 

"  JNIadam,  those  who  were  on  Thursday  last  in  the  galley,  dining  with 
the  said  king  of  England,  have  told  me  for  certain  that  there  are  in  the 
said  galley  207  pieces  of  artillery,  large  as  well  as  small,  of  which  70  are 
•  if  copper  and  cast  (fo}de),  and  the  rest  of  iron,  with  four  or  live  thousand 
bullets,  and  four  or  five  hundred  barrels  of  powder.  The  galley  is  pro- 
pelled by  six  score  oars,  and  is  so  large  that  it  will  hold  800  or  1000 
fighting  men.  The  king  of  England  acted  as  master  of  the  galley, 
wearing  a  sailor's  coat  and  trowsers  of  frise  cloth  of  gold  ;  he  had  on  a 
thick  chain,  in  which  were  five  links,  and  amongst  the  same  there  were 
three  plates  of  gold,  on  which  vsas  written,  as  a  device,  '  Dieu  est^  mon 
Droit ;'  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  said  chain  was  a  large  whistle,  with  which 
he  whistled  almost  as  loud  as  ^  a  trumpet  or  clarionet.  Mass  was  sung  on 
board  by  the  bishop  of  Durham  ;  and  the  galley  was  named  by  queen 
Mary,  '  The  Virgin  Mary.' 

"Madam,  after  these  things  I  went  twice  to  the  said  Cardinal  of 
York,  who  sent  for  me  ;  and  on  each  occasion,  and  especially  yesterday 
in  the  presence  of  the  bishops  of  "Winchester  and  Durham,  he  told  me 
that  the  king  of  England  and  his  comicil  considered  the  language  which 
the  king  my  master  had  used  in  his  letters  to  the  king  of  England  was 
very  strange  ;  viz  that  the  king  of  France  had  not  suspected  that  so  noble 
and  so  virtuous  a  prince,  loving  his  own  honour  and  fearing  God,  as  the 
king  of  England,  would  have  wished  to  make  war  upon  him,  contrary  to 
his  faith,  and  promise,  without  first  advertising  and  informing  him  of  the 
same,  and  without  signifying  it  to  him  and  letting  him  know  it,  in  order 
that,  if  there  was  any  fault,  it  might  be  amended,  or  at  any  rate  he  might 
prepare  to  defend  himself  :  which  words  the  said  king  of  England  and  all 
his  council  considered  very  harsh  and  unpleasant.  .  .  . 

"After  further  arguments  to  this  eiiect  they  said  they  hoped  the 
king  of  France  would  henceforth  behave  more  graciously  and  use  more 
gracious  words  in  his  communications,  as  their  master  woiild  to  him. 
To  this  the  writer  replied,  that  his  master's  letters  were  couched  in 
nothing  but  gracious  and  good  terms  ;  and  if  they  would  otherwise 
interpret  them,  the  fault  lay  in  the  king  of  England  and  Ids  council,  for 
the  king  of  England  had  written  in  still  riuler  terms  to  his  master  ; 
otherwise  the  king  w^ould  never  have  nuide  him  such  a  reply.  Other 
arguments  passed  on  both  sides.  In  the  conclusion  it  was  agi-eed  that 
henceforward  they  should  write  as  good  brothers  and  allies  ought  to  do. 

"  This  done  til ey  spoke  to  me  afterwards  of  the  jewels  which  queen 
Mary  deiuands,  telling  me  that  the  answers  which  the  king  of  France 
had  given  were  like  all  his  previous  rei>lies,  and  that  the  objections 
contained  in  the  said  letters,  by  which  the  king  pretended  he  was  not 
bound  to  deliver  up  the  jewels,  were  unreasonable,  as  tlie  king  of 
England  had  represented  to  him  by  a  bishop,  liis  ambassador,  whom  he 
had  sent  for  that  purpose  ;  that  my  lord  chancellor  and  the  said  bishop, 
the  ambassadors,  had  many  times  met  together,  l)ut  tliat  they  could  not 
determine  the  matter  ;  and  it  appeared  to  them,  that  tlic  king  deceased 
had  given  the  jewels  to  the  said  (pieen  Mary  to  adorn  and  decorate  lier 
person,  although  this  was  after  the  mairiage  for  the  most  jiait,  and  that 
they  ought  to  be  delivered  up.  I  defended  myself  as  well  as  J  could  ;  and 
so,  at  the  end,  they  deferred  the  matter,  without  saying  moi-e  al)out  it. 
I  believe  they  see  clearly  that  this  is  only  reasonable. 

"Afterwards  they  proceeded  to  the  Scotch  business  ;  and  tliough   I 

»  Hie.  "  "  Apres  force  de." 


110  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

had  told  them  that  T  had  no  commission  from  the  king,  and  so  knew 
nothing  about  it,  they  nevertheless  did  not  omit  to  reiterate  the  com- 
plaints which  I  have  rejieated  so  often  to  you  ;  viz.  the  ill  treatment 
which  they  say  my  lord  the  duke  of  Albany  lias  sho\vn  to  the  queen  of 
Scotland,  in  having  taken  from  her  her  children,  deprived  her  of  the 
government,  seized  all  her  goods,  and  driven  her  out  of  the  said  kingdom, 
with  only  one  gown,  and  no  attendance  :  adding  that  the  said  lord  duke 
of  Albany  had  caused  it  publicly  to  be  proclaimed  throughout  the  said 
kingdom  that  every  one  should  prepare  himself  for  war  against  the  king 
of  England,  who  was  coming  to  assail  them  in  order  to  take  and  subvert 
their  kingdom, — a  thing  which  the  said  king  of  England,  as  they  say, 
never  purposed  to  do.  .  .  .  They  prayed  me  to  write  these  things  to  you, 
to  the  end  that  it  might  please  the  king  and  you  to  prevent  them.   .  ,  . 

' '  Madam,  I  was  afterwards  alone  with  the  Cardinal  of  York,  who 
charged  me  to  write  to  the  king  and  yourself  that  there  is  no  prince  in 
this  world  that  the  king  of  England  loves  better  or  holds  more  dear  than 
he  does  tlie  king  of  France.  He  swore  and  afhrmed  this  to  me,  with  his 
hand  on  his  breast.  He  said  they  were  both  young,  and  there  was  the 
greatest  similarity  between  them  in  nobility,  magnanimity,  and  virtue, 
wherefore  they  ought  the  more  to  love  one  another  ;  and  he  humbly 
prayed  the  king  and  yoti  to  treat  the  king  his  master  well,  stating  that 
the  king  of  England  for  his  part  would  do  more  than  he  was  bound  to  do  : 
and  on  this  subject  may  it  please  you  to  consider  that  the  time  is  no 
longer  such  as  it  used  to  be. 

' '  To  learn  how  the  Scotch  business  stood,  I  asked  him  about  it  ;  and 
he  told  me  that  if  the  king  would  recall  the  duke  of  Albany, — allow  the 
estates  of  that  country  and  the  Scotch  parliament  to  nominate  guardians 
of  the  children  and  take  the  administration  of  the  realm  during  the 
minority  of  the  king  of  Scotland,  the  queen  retaining  the  name  only,  and 
allowed  to  go  and  come  with  her  children  when  and  as  often  as  she 
pleased, — and  if  her  goods  and  dowry  were  restored,  and  she  enabled  to 
return  to  Scotland, — then  all  would  be  appeased,  and  there  would  never 
be  occasion  for  war.  But  if  this  were  not  done,  the  king  of  England  was 
resolved  to  aid  his  sister,  and  to  do  so  much  that  she  should  have  what 
belongs  to  her.  I  also  spoke  to  him  touching  the  king  of  Arragon, 
because  I  had  heard  that  within  a  few  days  past  something  had  taken 
place  between  the  king  of  Arragon  and  them,  and  how  they  had  renewed 
their  ancient  amity,  and  amongst  other  things  had  engaged  that  if  the 
king  of  England  made  war  on  Scotland  the  king  of  Arragon  should  assist 
him  ;  and  also  if  the  king  of  France  made  war  on  the  king  of  Arragon  in 
Guienne,  the  king  of  England  should  succour  him.  Hereupon  the 
Cardinal  told  me,  that  if  the  king  would  treat  the  king  of  England  well, 
and  not  do  anything  contrary  to  the  treaty  of  peace  and  amity  between 
them,  I  might  assure  you  on  his  part,  that  the  king  of  England  would 
not  -make  an  alliance  with  the  king  of  Arragon,  or  any  other  person,  pre- 
judicial to  the  king  my  master.  .  .  . 

"Madam,  I  have  written  a  long  letter  in  order  to  obey  you.  I  trust 
it  will  not  tire  you,  and  very  humbly  pray  the  king  and  yourself  that  I 
may  return.  .   ,    . 

"  At  London  this  6th  day  of  November." 

It  might  be  true  in  the  language  of  diplomacy  that  up  to 
the  date  of  the  battle  of  Marignano  Henry  had  not  been  guilty 
of  any  overt  act  which  could  be  construed  into  a  breach  of  his 
treaty  with  France,  whatever  might  have  been  his  inclinations. 
The  time  had  not  yet  arrived  for  forming  a  i>owerful  con- 
federacy against  his  rival,  with  any  tolerable  hopes  of  success. 


1515.] 


MAXIMILIAN  AND   THE   SWISS. 


Ill 


Ferdinand,  as  I  have  stated  before,  was  content  to  remain 
neutral,  undoubtedly  believing,  like  the  other  rulers  of  Europe, 
that  the  ambition  of  Francis  would  end  in  his  ruin,  and  t^ie 
Swiss  would  secure  an  easy  victory.  There  was  better  expec- 
tation of  Maximilian.  The  imperial  cities  of  Brescia  and 
Yerona  were  menaced  by  the  Venetians,  and  the  Emperor  was 
in  danger  of  losing  every  foot  of  land  in  Italy.  He  had  the 
reputation  of  being  an  able  soldier.  Better  than  all,  he  had 
great  influence  with  the  Swiss,  and  could  bring  any  number 
of  them  or  of  German  lance-knights  into  the  field.  Such  men, 
to  whom  war  was  a  trade  from  their  infancy,  had  so  manifest 
a  superiority  over  the  raw  national  militia  of  other  countries, 
that  no  king  had  any  chance  of  success  without  their  aid. 
That  superiority  was  not  merely  in  their  superior  training  and 
experience.  Beyond  that  of  keeping  their  arms  and  imple- 
ments in  full  trim,  war  was  their  only  employment.  Whereas 
the  national  militia — and  that  of  England  especially,  taken 
from  the  plough-tail  at  few  and  irregular  intervals  for  muster, 
clothed  in  ill-fitting  and  old-fashioned  habiliments  which 
descended  from  father  to  son,  badly  cleaned  and  scarcely  ever 
complete — must  have  presented  a  spectacle  more  ludicrous 
than  formidable,  as  they  took  the  field  in  rusty  head-pieces 
and  cumbrous  body  armour,  hastily  patched  together  for  the 
occasion.  It  is  clear,  from  the  various  unsuccessful  attempts 
described  in  contemporary  papers  to  prevent  even  the  armour 
furnished  by  the  King  from  being  pawned  or  purloined,  that 
native  troops  were  of  small  account  in  a  continental  war. 

But  then  who  could  trust  Maximilian,  himself  as  much  a 
mercenary  as  the  Swiss,  and  ready  like  them  to  sell  himself 
to  the  highest  bidder  ?  At  the  very  time  when  he  was  abusing 
the  French  to  Sir  Eobert  Wingfield,  and  declaiming  against 
their  subtle  practices,  he  w^as  giving  private  audience  to 
French  ambassadors,^  and.  listening  to  the  projiosals  of  his 
grandson  Charles  for  a  closer  amity  with  France.^  Always 
extravagant  and  always  in  difficulties,  any  aid  from  Maximilian 
had  to  be  purchased  at  a  heavy  cast.    But  Wolsey  was  inclined 


»  II.  786. 

*  Duriiij?  the  evontfnl  months  of 
Aucrnst  aiifl  Spptember  the  Emperor 
Bpent  mnch  of  his  time  in  hunting  ; — 
a  trick  which  he  had  when  he  wished 
to  get  out  of  the  way  of  the  honest 
and  simple-minded  Sir  Robert  Wing- 
field,  wlio  was  continually  deluded, 
bat  never  suspected  his  Imperial 
Majesty.       He     imagined     that     the 


Emperor  withdrew  himself  into  the 
solitudes  of  the  woods  to  meditate  on 
the  best  mean.s  of  succouring  Verona, 
and  taking  vengeance  on  the  French. 
It  is  surprising  that  he  did  not  per. 
coive  that  Maximilian's  passion  for 
the  chase  was  always  at  the  liigliest 
when  a  message  from  France  was  in 
the    way.       See     11.    bT-i,    btiti,    900, 

9oy. 


112  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

to  venture.  The  successes  of  Francis  in  Italy,  bis  league  and 
evident  good  understanding  with  the  Po}3e,  had  thoroughly 
alarmed  Ferdinand,  and  provoked  the  resentment  of  England. 
The  former  had  sent  an  ambassador,  and,  what  was  still  more 
unusual  with  him,  rich  presents  to  Henry  to  invoke  his  aid. 
But  whatever  was  done  must  be  done  secretly.  The  treaty 
with  France  still  stood  in  the  way.  The  French  King  bad 
carefully  avoided  all  literal  violation  of  it ;  and  Henry  could 
not,  without  breach  of  faith,  venture  upon  open  aggressions. 

There   was   in  the   Cardinal's  service  an  ecclesiastic,  of 

whose  early  career  little  is  known — Eichard  Pace,  immortalized 

by  Shakespeare,  and  reckoned  by  some  as  scarce  inferior  to 

Wolsey  himself  in  ability  or  in  the  favour  of  Henry.     The 

date  and  place  of  his  birth  are  unknown.    He  tells  us  himself,^ 

however,  that   he  lived  in  a  menial   capacity  with  Thomas 

Langton,  the  predecessor  of  Fox  in  the  see  of  Winchester. 

The  Bishop,  discovering  Pace's  proficiency  in  music,  believed 

he  would  make  a  scholar,  and  so  furnished   him  with   the 

requisite   means   to    study  at  Padua  ;   for   this   prelate,  like 

others  of  his  order  in  that  age,  used  to  say  of  himself,  that  he 

considered  he  had  been  advanced  to  his  high  dignity  solely 

for  the  purpose  of  fostering  learning.    He  had  a  school  attached 

to  his  palace,  where  he  superintended  the  education  of  the 

boys;  and  "  it  was  his  great  delight,"  says  Pace,  "to  hear 

the  boys  repeat  to  him  at  night  the  lessons  they  had  said  to 

their  schoolmaster  during  the  day ;   and  whoever  acquitted 

himself  to  the  Bishop's  satisfaction  never  failed  of  being  praised 

and  rewarded.     For  the  good  Bishop  had  always  these  words 

in  his  mouth  :   Virtus  laiidata  crescit.     If  a  dull  boy  ajjpeared 

before  him,  but  one  who  was  willing  to  learn,  the  Bishop  never 

reproached  him  with  his  stupidity,  but  cheered  and  exhorted 

him  to  do  his  best,   and  to   overcome  nature  by  diligence, 

setting  before  him  the  shining  example  of  others  who  had 

surmounted  similar  obstacles."  ^     During  his  stay  in  Italy, 

Pace   seems   to   have   made   the    acquaintance   of  Erasmus, 

Tunstal,  and  William   Latimer.     He   returned  to  England, 

settled  at  Oxford — as  Wood  thinks,^  with  some  reason,   at 

Queen's  College,  of  which  Langton  had  been  the  provost ;  was 

taken  into  the  service  of  Bainbridge,  who  succeeded  Langton 

in  the  provostship,  and  went  with  him  to  Piome,  when  he  was 

Cardinal  and  Archbishop  of  York,  at  the  close  of  the  year 

'   De  Doctrina,  27.  of  gratitude  to  his  earliest  patron. 

^  Pace  excuses  himself  for  diverg-  ^  Wood's  Ath.  i.  29. 

ing  from  his  subject  to  pay  this  tribute 


1515.]  THE   SWISS   DESIKE   TO   SERVE   ENGLAND.  113 

1509.  When  Bainbridge  was  poisoned,  Pace,  who  had  been 
appointed  one  of  the  Cardinal's  executors,  was  extremely  active 
in  bringing  the  offenders  to  justice.  His  pertinacity  and 
resolution  in  this  matter  brought  down  upon  him  the  resent- 
ment of  De  Giglis,  Bishop  of  Worcester,  who  was  strongly 
suspected  of  being  implicated  in  Bainbridge' s  murder ;  with 
what  degree  of  truth  must  for  ever  remain  uncertain,  for  the 
court  of  Eome  were  not  willing  to  prosecute  the  matter  too 
strictly,  and  Worcester's  services  at  the  time  in  procuring  the 
cardinalate  for  Wolsey  imposed  silence  on  his  accusers.  Pace 
returned  to  England  in  March,  1515,  with  a  recommendation 
to  Wolsey  fi*om  Sir  Eichard  Wingfield ;  ^  and  from  this  time 
to  the  close  of  the  year  we  hear  no  more  of  him.  He  was  now 
to  be  employed  by  the  Cardinal  on  a  secret  mission  of  the 
greatest  importance,  and  his  correspondence  on  that  occasion 
occupies  a  considerable  space  among  the  state  papers  of  the 
next  two  years.^ 

After  the  battle  of  Marignano  and  the  surrender  of  Milan 
the  Swiss  had  made  their  way  back  to  their  mountain  homes, 
greatly  dissatisfied  and  exasperated  at  their  defeat.  Cardinal 
Sion  returned  to  the  Emperor,  and  here  he  fell  in  with  Sir 
Piobert  Wingfield,  not  the  most  discreet  or  reticent  of  English 
ambassadors,  and  learned  from  him  the  dissatisfaction  of 
England  at  the  successes  of  Francis,  and  still  more  at  the 
omnipotence  of  French  influence  in  the  court  of  Flanders, 
where  it  displayed  itself  in  all  the  forms  of  arrogance,  insult, 
and  opposition  to  the  English  commissioners  appointed  to 
carry  out  the  treaty  of  intercourse  with  Charles  of  Castile.^ 
On  the  2nd  of  October  *  Wingfield  wrote  to  Wolsey  to  say  that 
the  Cardinal  of  Sion  had  informed  him  the  Swiss  desired 
nothing  better  than  to  serve  the  King  with  20,000  men  at 
40,000  florins  a  month.  The  Emperor,  he  questions  not,  will 
add  as  many  horse  and  artillery  as  shall  be  necessary,  for  a 
reasonable  sum,  "  for  all  the  world  knoweth  that  he  is  not  best 
purveyed  of  money  ;  "  and  then  Wingfield  concludes  with  a 

*  II.  273.  Thomas    More    was    oniitUn'ed    with 

*  This  correspondence  extends  to  Tnnstal,  and  Young,  then  Master  of 
189  letters;  viz.  149  from  Pace,  and  the  Rolls.  It  was  in  this  bis  first  visit 
40  to  him.  Of  these,  one  or  two  only  to  Flanders,  in  a  public  capacity,  tliat 
have  been  hitherto  known  to  historians.  he  had  the  op|iortQnity  of  making 
Not  more  than  seven  of  them  appear  those  observations  on  tho  political 
in  the  eleven  volumes  of  State  Papers  abuses  of  the  times,  which  ho  ai'tcr- 
of  Henry  VIII.  published  under  tho  wards  set  forth,  with  such  ('X(|nisite 
sanction  of  the  State  Paper  Com-  humour  and  keen  good  aonao,  in  his 
mission.  Uto[)ia. 

'  This  is  the  mission  on  which  Sir  *  II.  982. 

YOL.  I.  1 


114  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

flourish  from  his  own  trumpet,  which  the  mutilation  of  the 
letter  has  unfortunately  marred,  oi"  Henry's  triumphant  coro- 
nation in  France.  On  the  8th  of  October  ^  Knight  wrote  from 
Brussels  with  great  eagerness,  urging  Wolsey  to  enter  at  once 
on  a  war  with  the  ancient  enemy  and  rival  of  England.  "  If 
he  is  suffered  to  invade  the  innocent,  England  will  lose  all 
her  friends."  He  pressed  the  Cardinal  not  to  lose  the  oppor- 
tunit3\  Now  is  the  time  a  league  can  be  made  with  the  Swiss, 
"  which  shall  be  a  scourge  to  the  pride  of  France  ;  notwith- 
standing divers  in  England  say  that  they  he  villains  and  disdain 
to  hear  speak  of  them.  But  if  ye  will  not  have  them,  the 
Frenchmen  shall.  Well  fare  the  villanies  that  keepeth  and 
favoreth  the  rest  of  noblesse  !  The  Church,  the  Empire,  and 
all  other  princes  desire  their  confederation,  save  only  we, 
which  might  have  more  profit  by  them  than  all  others." 

It  was  creditable  to  England  that  it  should  be  so.  The 
facts  here  disclosed  by  Knight  constitute  the  best  apology  for 
the  measures  now  adopted  by  Wolsey  and  the  King,  scarcely 
well-judged,  and  certainly  at  variance  with  their  usual  policy. 
Papal  and  French  emissaries  were  busy  among  the  Swiss, 
and  Pace  was  sent  to  counteract  their  intrigues.  His  mission 
was  one  of  some  delicacy,  and  required  more  than  usual  tact 
and  adroitness.  With  the  view  of  lulling  suspicion  it  was  to 
be  given  out  that  he  was  acting  only  in  a  private  capacity. 
He  was  ordered  to  put  himself  in  communication  with  Cardinal 
Sion  and  Sforza  Duke  of  Milan  ;  and  after  thanking  them  for 
the  kind  wishes  they  had  expressed,  that  Wolsey  should  urge 
the  King  of  England  to  recover  his  rights  and  inheritance  in 
France  by  the  aid  of  the  Swiss,  Pace  was  instructed  to  say, 
that  Wolsey  would  "  spare  neither  body,  life,  nor  goods  "  to 
join  with  so  excellent  and  noble  a  prelate  as  the  Cardinal  of 
Sion,  whom  he  knew  above  all  Christian  prelates  to  be  most 
minded  to  that  universal  peace,  and  some  glorious  expedition 
against  the  Infidels,  as  soon  as  a  check  shall  have  been  laid 
on  the  great  ambition  of  France.^  If  the  Swiss  could  be 
persuaded  to  give  battle  to  France  on  their  side  of  the  mountains, 
the  King  of  England  would  no  doubt  advance  them  100,000 
crowns  of  gold  for  two  months'  service.^  At  the  suggestion  of 
Sion  the  terms  were  afterwards  increased  to  120,000  crowns 
for  20,000  men,  to  serve  wherever  England  might  think  fit  to 
employ  them. 

Pace   started  towards   the  close  of  October;    crossed  to 

»  II.  1003.  ^   II.  1095.  ^  II.  1065,  1146. 


1515.]  PACE'S  MISSION.  115 

Calais ;    passed  Sir  Thomas  More  on  his  waj^  to  Antwerp, 
where  he  arrived  on  the  25th  ;  escaped  "through  the  dominions 
of  Eobert  de  la  Marche,  called  The  Devil,'"  by  byepaths  to 
Spires   on    1st   November;    reached   Inspruck   on   the   8th; 
opened  his  commission  to  Sion,  and  found  him  so  ready  for 
the   enterprize  that   if  Pace  had   brought   money,   and   not 
promises  only,  the  Swiss  would  have  attacked  the  French  in 
ten  days'  time.^     He  arrived  at  Constance  on  the  22nd,  and 
at  Zurich  on  the  24th.     "  Nothing  can  be  done  here  without 
money,"  he  says  ;   "  the  French  king  has  offered  them  200,000 
crowns,  and  we  sola  spes."     They  had  been  too  often  beguiled 
by  large  offers.     "  The  Pope  ought  to  contribute,"  he  adds  ; 
"  but,  except  they  see  his  money,  the  Swiss  say  they  will  not 
believe  the  Pope's  word,  spoken  or  written."     The  arrange- 
ment of  120,000  crowns  for  two  months  was  now  increased  to 
140,000  ;  in  February  Galeazzo  Visconti,  their  commander, 
demanded   300,000.^     Their   greed  was   excessive,   and   they 
flocked  to  the  English  standard  in  overwhelming  numbers ; 
but  all  had  to  be  engaged,  at  least  had  to  be  paid,  for  fear  the 
rest  should  take  offence.     "  I  am  at  expences  intolerable  for 
to  bear  amongst  the  Swiss  "  (writes  Pace  to  Burbank),  "  whom 
a  man  must  have  always  at  meat  and  drink  with  him,  or 
shame  his  prince,  his  master,  and  himself."     "  The  Swiss  be 
unreasonable  in  asking  money,  and  remedy  is  there  none ; 
quia  talis   est  illorum  barharies   ut  pecuniam  petitam   ncfjanti 
mortem  minentur.''^     English   royals  and   nobles,  in  spite  of 
Pace's   care  and  precaution,  melted  away  like  snow  in  the 
sun ;  and  Wolsey  could  not  supply  gold  with  sufficient  rapidity 
to  satisfy  their  insatiable  demands. 

It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  Maximilian  could  remain 
unmoved  at  such  a  sight ; — English  gold  falling  in  showers 
so  near  him,  and  not  a  drop  to  quench  his  intolerable  thirst. 
He  had  been  dallying  for  a  long  time  with  the  French,  unable 
to  decide  whether  for  a  sum  of  French  crowns  he  should 
abandon  all  hopes  of  Italy  for  ever,  or  make  terms  with  his 
good  son  in  England,  more  to  his  honour,  and  probably  not 
less  for  his  interest.  Had  the  French  advanced  their  terms, 
or  had  Maximilian  entertained  better  opinions  of  their 
solvency,  he  would  not  have  hesitated  what  course  to  adopt. 
His  conduct  is  not  very  intelligible,  and  we  can  only  guess  at 
it  in  the  absence  of  the  documents  from  foreign  archives. 
But  this  much  is  obvious  :  If  he  joined  England  ho  might 

»  II.  1135,  114G.  ^  II.  415. 


116  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

have  a  chance  of  selling  his  aid  to  Henry  at  a  high  price  ; 
and  whilst  he  invaded  Italy  ostensibly  with  the  purpose  of 
leading  the  Swiss  and  attacking  the  French,  he  might  succour 
his  own  cities  of  Verona  and  Brescia,  and  recover  his  lost 
territory  from  the  Venetians,  at  the  expense  of  his  ally.  This 
seems  to  have  been  his  first  idea ; — this  done,  he  could  drive 
a  better  bargain  with  France  by  selling  his  friendship  when  it 
was  most  valuable  to  France  and  most  disastrous  to  England. 
To  keep  him  favourable  to  France  he  was  surrounded  by 
ministers  in  the  French  interest,  who  never  ceased  represent- 
ing to  him  the  value  of  the  French  alliance  in  colours  most 
attractive  to  a  needy  and  extravagant  man.  "  Though  I 
assure  your  grace,"  says  Wingfield  to  Wolsey,  "  that  the 
Emperor  hath  as  great  favor  and  affection  for  the  King's 
Highness  as  is  possible,  yet  his  council,  being  of  other  mind, 
may  so  impeach  and  retard  the  affairs  that  they  shall  not  fail 
to  be  riglit  largely  stopped  of  their  course."  ^  Therefore 
Wingfield  thought  it  would  be  well,  if  it  would  please  the 
King  and  Wolsey,  that  he  and  Pace  had  lOOL  of  secret  service 
money  to  distribute  amongst  such  of  the  Emperor's  council 
as  they  should  deem  fitting  !  German  venality  must  have 
been  cheap,  when  the  favours  of  a  whole  court  could  be 
purchased  at  such  a  sum. 

As  soon,  therefore,  as  Maximilian  had  obtained  an  inkling 
of  what  was  going  forward,  he  wrote  to  his  daughter  Margaret^ 
to  inform  her  that  he  had  learned  from  Pace  that  Henry  had 
deposited  100,000  gold  crowns  at  Antwerp  to  be  delivered  in 
wages  to  the  Swiss.  He  begged  her  to  send  to  Antwerp,  and 
inquire  of  Sir  Thomas  Spinelly  if  such  were  the  fact,  and,  if 
it  proved  correct,  to  contrive  and  get  hold  of  the  money,  and 
secretly  deliver  it  to  the  factors  of  the  Fuggers  to  be  deposited 
in  the  imperial  treasury.  He  jDurposed,  without  asking 
authority  from  England,  to  obtain  the  entire  control  of  the 
money.  Two  days  after,  he  wrote  again  to  say,  that  as 
Francis  had  helped  the  Venetians  to  lay  siege  to  Brescia  and 
Verona,  he  could  not  believe  that  the  offers  of  accommodation 
made  him  by  the  French  King,  through  the  Archduke  Charles, 
were  to  be  trusted.  The  revenues  of  the  two  cities,  he  says, 
are  worth  some  millions,  and  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  prevent 
them  from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Venetians ;  but  at 
present  his  allies  had  abandoned  him,  and  he  was  powerless. 
Now,  however,  when  least  expected,  an  opportunity  had  pre- 

•  II.  1447.  -  Dec.  1,  1515.     II.  1231. 


1516.]  SIR   ROBERT   WINGFIELD.  117 

sented  itself  in  the  desire  of  England  to  attack  the  French  in 
Italy,  and  he  hastened  to  avail  himself  of  it.  His  instrument 
for  that  purpose  was  Sir  Eobert  Wingfield. 

Sir  Eobert  belonged  to  a  class  of  statesmen  then  rapidly 
disappearing  before  a  younger,  more  versatile  and  expert 
generation,  of  whom  Wolsey  might  be  considered  as  the  chief. 
He  speaks  of  himself  as  living  in  the  days  of  Henry  VI., ^ — of 
bis  long  experience  as  a  negociator,^ — of  the  white  hairs 
"  which  he  had  gotten  in  the  cold  snowy  mountains  of 
Germany,  which  have  the  power  to  make  all  hares  and 
partridges  that  abide  amongst  them  white,  where  my  beard 
(which  I  have  promised  to  bear  to  our  Lady  of  Walsingham, 
an  God  give  me  life)  is  wax  so  white  that  whilst  I  shall  wear 
it  I  need  none  other  mean  to  cause  women  rejoice  little  in  my 
company."^  He  had  the  quaintness  and  precision  of  a  man 
of  the  old  school,  and  both  are  visible  in  his  conversation,  his 
letters,  and  his  handwriting,  with  a  tinge  of  pedantry  not 
unbecoming  a  man  of  his  years,  and  displaying  itself  in  the 
use  of  Latinized  English  and  classical  references.  He  was 
a  little  proud  of  himself,  but  more  proud  of  the  Wingfields,  as 
he  was  bound  to  be ;  was  easily  hurt,  but  bore  no  malice.  If 
there  was  any  creature  in  the  world  that  he  hated,  it  was 
a  Frenchman.  He  devoutly  believed  that  the  French  had 
been  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  evils  that  had  happened  in 
Christendom  during  the  last  400  vears.  He  had  not 
read  Baker's  Chronicle,  like  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  for  he 
lived  200  years  before  Baker's  Chronicle  was  written ;  but 
he  had  read  the  English  Chronicles  of  his  days,  and  he 
could  tell  *  how  "  disceivately  King  Philip  dealt  with  King 
Eichard  the  Fh'st,  called  Coeur  de  Lion,  being  in  the  Holy 
Land  ;  how,  by  the  subtle  mean  of  the  same.  King  John  was 
accursed,  and  his  realm  laid  under  an  interdict ;  how  Henry  V. 
won  all  France ;  how  Henry  VIII.  had  good  right  to  be  king 
of  France,  for  it  was  notorious  that  his  ancestor  and  pro- 
genitor king  Edward  the  Third  refused  to  do  homage  for  the 
duchy  of  Guienne,  because  he  would  not  by  this  mean  deface 
or  impair  his  title  in  the  crown  of  France ;  "  and  so  forth. 
He  was,  in  short,  the  most  guileless,  upright,  humane,  and 
valiant  of  all  bachelor  knights,  as  he  called  himself ;  stiff  and 
formal,  somewhat  conceited  and  pedantical,  but  full  of  a  wise, 
gracious,  hearty,  and  forgiving  humanity,  which  was  not  the 
worse  because  it  had  a  smack  of  his  pecuUar  failings. 

•  II.  p.  334.  2  II.  p.  131,  3  See  II.  1131.  *  II.  p.  334. 


118  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENKY  VIII.  [A.D. 

I  know  not  whether  it  was  more  to  his  credit  or  Maxi- 
milian's that  he  had  been  so  long  in  the  court  of  the  latter, 
and  yet  persisted  in  believing  that  the  Emperor  was  the  best, 
the  wisest,  the  most  profound,  the  most  honest  and  patriotic 
of  mortal  men.     "  Seeing  is  believing;  "  but  no  seeing  would 
have  converted  Sir  Eobert.     Had  he  beheld  the  Emperor  in 
the  very  act  of  the  most  flagrant  turpitude,  he  would  have 
set  it  down  to  the  score  of  a  subtle  and  inscrutable  policy 
designed  to  cover  some  act  of  sublime  virtue,  which  in  the  end 
would  ensure  the  peace   and  the  happiness  of  Christendom. 
If  the  Emperor  ran  away  from  the  battle-field — if  he  falsified 
his  word,  if  he  shuffled  and  prevaricated.  Sir  Eobert  imputed 
it  all  to  that  mysterious  wisdom  which  must  needs  reside  in 
the  heart  of  an   Emperor.     Maximilian,  though   no  genius 
himself,  found  little  difficulty  in  managing  such  a  man.     To 
Sir   Eobert   he   was   universally   respectful ;   listened  to  his 
tedious  speeches  without  betraying  signs  of  impatience,  and 
treated   him    occasionally,    and    his    despatches,   with    most 
magnificent  courtesy.     He  professed  to  make  Sir  Eobert  the 
depository  of  his  secrets,  to   unbosom  to    Sir  Eobert  those 
deeper  feelings  and  designs  he  could  trust  to  no  others,  not 
even  to  his   most  intimate  councillors.     To  the  proud  and 
susceptible  Englishman  he  spoke  of  his  King  in  "  the  most 
hearty  and  most  aflectuous  manner;  "  raised  his  bonnet  when 
he  received  or  referred  to  his  despatches ;    had  tears  in  his 
eyes  (the  veteran  deceiver !)  when  he  thought  what  a  virtuous, 
loving,  and  noble  son  he  had  in  Wingfield's  master.     The 
King's  remembrances,  he  said,  were  as  comfortable  to  him 
"  as  the  figure  of  the  crucifix  which  is  brought  by  the  cure  to 
his  parishien  that  lieth  in  extremis  /  "  ^ 

Pace  had  been  strictly  enjoined  to  keep  the  money  in  his 
own  hands,  and  employ  it  exclusively  in  wages  for  the  Swiss, 
for  Wolsey  was  too  well  acquainted  with  the  Emperor's  fail- 
ings to  allow  him  any  share  in  the  transaction.  Pace  was  to 
communicate  directly  with  Galeazzo,  and  sufi^er  no  interven- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  Emperor.  This  being  so,  the  Emperor 
could  find  no  decent  pretext  for  drawing  the  money  into  his 
own  hands.  He  therefore  began  with  pointing  out  to  Wing- 
field  the  dangers  arising  from  the  French  successes  in  Italy. 
Francis  would  have  the  Pope  at  his  disposal ;  he  would  keep 
Maximilian  so  employed  by  aiding  the  Venetians  that  the 
latter  would  have  no  opportunity  of  succouring  the  Neapolitan 

»  II.  p.  387. 


1516.]  WmGFIELD  DISOBEYS   INSTRUCTIONS.  119 

territory,  and  thus  the  South  Hke  the  North  must  fall  to  the 
French.  "My  son,  the  prince  (Charles),"  he  continued, 
"  being  so  young,  and  his  council  clearly  French,  the  French 
King  shall  for  money  lead  him  after  his  appetite  ;  which 
premises,  if  they  shall  fortune  to  take  effect,  I  cannot  see  how 
the  realm  of  England  shall  remain  without  broilerie  and  great 
danger."  ^  Then  he  suggested  that  (/"  the  league  proposed 
by  England  (between  the  Pope,  Henry,  Arragou,  and  the 
Emperor)  could  be  carried  into  effect  with  provision  for  the 
Swiss,  it  would  be  for  the  weal  of  Christendom  ;  "  but  the 
sickness,"  he  said,  "was  so  great  and  pernicious  that  it  must 
be  cured  or  (before)  the  said  medicine  may  be  prepared,  the 
convenient  drugs  be  so  distant  one  from  another ;  and  also 
he  (the  Pope)  that  should  be  chief  hath  now  of  late  given 
hearing  and  favor  to  the  French  enchantments,  in  such  wise, 
that  as  long  as  the  French  remain  in  Italy  the  said  head  is 
not  to  be  treated  with  in  that  matter,  and  likewise  the 
Swissers."  In  the  simplicity  of  his  heart  Wingfield  wrote  to 
Wolsey  three  days  after,'-^  that  he  and  the  Emperor  had  can- 
vassed the  plans  proposed  by  the  Cardinal  for  the  coming 
campaign,  and  he  doubted  not  that  as  the  case  then  stood 
Wolsey  would  perceive  "  it  was  not  meet  to  attempt  the 
Swissers  by  any  of  the  ways  expressed  and  assigned "  in 
Wolsey's  letter ; — a  piece  of  audacity  which  shows  how  totally 
ignorant  Wingfield  was  of  the  true  state  of  things,  and  still 
more  of  the  character  of  those  with  whom  he  had  to  deal.  As 
if  this  had  not  been  enough,  he  proceeds,  with  extraordinary 
complacency  in  his  own  sagacity,  to  state  that  it  was  the 
Emperor's  wish  that  Pace  should  make  Wingfield  privy  to  all 
his  charges,  and  follow  his  advice  and  counsel  from  time  to 
time  ;  "  and  as  touching  the  Swissers,  if  they  will  not  now 
condescend  that  10,000  of  them  may  join  the  Emperor,  which 
hath  had  his  armies  ready  in  Verona  and  Brescia,  with  more 
footmen  and  horsemen  put  in  a-readiness  to  join  with  them 
by  the  space  of  three  mouths  and  more,  to  his  marvellous 
great  cost  and  charge,  they  will  never  be  got  in  any  manner 
of  way  ;  and  then  by  necessity  there  is  none  other  remedy  but 
to  wage  (employ)  10,000  lance-knights  and  1,000  horse," — the 
Emperor's  own  troops  : — so  falling  blindly  into  the  trap  which 
it  was  the  special  purpose  of  the  King  and  Wolsey  to  avoid. 

The  anger   of  the  Cardinal  with  his  unseasonable  inter- 
ference may  be  better  imagined  than  described.     He  was  not 

'  II.  2351.  *  n.  l<K)t. 


120  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

accustomed   to   brook   opposition    from    bis   equals   or   even 
superiors  in  tbe  Privy  Council.     Even  at  tbis  early  date  tbe 
great  minister  was  omnipotent ;   "all   really   depends   upon 
bim,"  says  Giustinian  writing  bome  to  tbe  Council  of  Ten. 
An  inferior  man  would  bave   dismissed  Wingfield  from  bis 
post ; — would  bave  made  a  fuss,  and  superseded  bim.     Not  so 
be ;  to  tbe  credit  of  tbe  reign,  a  freedom  of  opinion  and  dissent 
was  allowed  in  official  men,  wbicb  disappeared  in  after  times. 
Omnipotent  as  Wolsey  was,  and  impatient  of  contradiction,  be 
never  used  bis  power  to  remove  an  inferior  from  bis  post 
because  tbat  inferior  tbougbt  fit  sometimes  to  disagree  witb 
bim.     If  an  ambassador  failed  in  tbe  expectations  tbat  bad 
been  formed  of  bim,  it  was  deemed  more  discreet  to  send  an 
inferior  agent,  as  occasion  migbt  arise,  to   supplement   bis 
deficiencies.      Sucb   a   policy   was    not   witbout    advantage. 
Tbe  long  experience  of  a  man  of  inferior  talents  compensated 
for  brigbter  natural  powers ;   tbe   credit   gained   at   foreign 
courts  by  tbe  permanency  of  bis  appointment  gave  respect 
and   influence   to   tbe   agent.     So,  far    from  employing  bis 
autbority  in  recalling  tbe  representatives  at  foreign  courts, 
Wolsey  seldom  listened  to  tbeir  repeated  applications  for  dis- 
missal,  even  wben  tbey  demanded  it  in  a  momentary  fit  of 
disgust,  or  were  fretted  into  impatience  by  a  reprimand,  wbicb 
be  sometimes  administered  witb  considerable  severity. 

Tbey,  on  tbe  otber  band,  accustomed  to  rebuffs,  wbicb  tbe 
sensitive  bonour  of  later  times  considers  intolerable,  did  tbeir 
best  out  of  a  sense  of  duty  to  tbeir  King  and  country.  Tbe 
peculiar  position  of  tbe  Tudors  fostered  tbis  feeling  of  personal 
responsibility  to  tbe  Sovereign.  Tbe  King  was  tbe  only  repre- 
sentative of  tbe  nation  ;  Parliament  was  little  more  tban  an 
institution  for  granting  subsidies  and  regulating  duties  on  bats 
and  caps.  No  ambassador,  no  political  agent,  cared  tbe  least 
wbat  Parliament  migbt  or  migbt  not  tbink  of  bis  conduct. 
To  Parliament  be  would  never  bave  appealed  against  an  act  of 
ministerial  severity  or  oppression.  His  sole  object  was  to 
please  tbe  King,  and  next,  perbaps,  bis  minister.  And  wbilst 
the  King,  as  in  tbe  Tudor  times,  put  bimself  at  tbe  bead  of 
tbe  nation,  knelt  witb  bis  people  at  tbe  altars  of  St.  Paul's  or 
Westminster,  fougbt  openly  at  tbe  tilt  witb  bis  nobles,  came 
bome  a-Maying  from  Greenwicb  witb  pasteboard  Gogs  and 
Magogs  and  a  noisy  rabblement  at  bis  beels,  sbot  witb  bis 
own  arcbers  of  tbe  guard,  discussed  tbe  New  Testament  of 
Erasmus  witb  friars   and  bisbops,  read  all  bis   despatches, 


1516.]  HOW   WINGFIELD  RECEIVED   A   REBUFF.  121 

was  everywhere  seen,  heard,  and  talked  of,  and  that  without 
bating  an  atom  of  his  dignity,  the  entire  personality  of  the 
nation  was  wrapped  up  in  the  King,  and  a  unity  was  given  to 
its  aim  and  action,  individually  and  collectively,  which  never 
had  existed  before,  and  possibly  never  will  again.  The  divine 
right  of  kings  was  identified  with  the  divine  right  of  national 
existence  and  independence. 

But  to  return  to  Sir  Eobert.  What  reply  Wolsey  made  to 
his  despatch  we  do  not  know ;  but,  whatever  it  was,  it  was 
scarcely  pleasant  to  the  old  knight's  honest  and  sensitive 
pride.  He  had  often  spoken  of  resigning  before  ;  now,  like  a 
true  Englishman,  he  breathed  not  a  word  of  resignation.  In 
silent  and  solemn  dignity  he  mounted  his  tallest  horse,  wrote 
home  a  letter  to  Wolsey,  said  he  had  done  nothing  to  hinder 
business,  and  proceeded  to  read  him  a  lecture  on  the  duties  of 
ministers.  "  Ministers,"  he  said,  "  should  possess  four  things, 
viz.  wit,  learning,  good-will,  and  experience.  For  my  part," 
he  continued,  "  I  am  not  ashamed  to  give  place  to  your 
secretary  (Pace)  in  the  first  twain,  and  as  to  the  third  it 
were  too  great  a  shame  for  me  to  give  place  to  any ;  and  in 
the  fourth,  both  to  eschew  arrogance  and  comparison,  I  will 
leave  the  judgment  of  that  part  to  such  as  have  practised  with 
us  both."  ^  He  was  a  little  annoyed,  and  could  not  help 
showing  it.  Pace's  commission  was  a  secret ;  it  nowise  inter- 
fered with  Sir  Kobert's  duties  :  but  Pace  had  the  control  of  the 
money  and  the  management  of  the  expedition ; — the  two  things 
which  Maximilian  desired  and  hoped  to  obtain  by  means  of 
Wingfield.  Nothing  can  show  more  clearly  the  opposite 
characters  of  the  two  men — the  old  and  the  new  school — than 
the  letter  written  by  Pace  on  the  same  occasion.  He  had 
been  too  long  in  the  court  at  Rome,  and  had  seen  too  much  of 
its  proceedings  at  the  death  of  Cardinal  Bainbridge,  to  be 
influenced  by  great  names  and  fair  pretensions.  For  the 
Emperor  he  cared  not  a  jot ;  and  in  this  he  was  encouraged 
by  Galeazzo  and  the  Swiss.^  They  told  Pace  they  would  have 
no  Emperor  in  the  field,  for  on  a  previous  occasion  he  had 
received  for  them  100,000  crowns  from  England,  and  had 
never  paid  them  more  than  40,000  florins!  "  Nothing  can 
hurt  my  cause,"  he  declared  to  Wolsey,  "but  only  the 
Emperor's  slowness.  I  do  hourly  tarry  for  his  resolution, 
but  these  Almains  be  so  diligent  in  resolving  their  matters, 
they  had  liever  lose  a  great  city  than  rise  from  their  dinner 
>  XL  1582.  *  n.  1170. 


122  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

to  defend  it."  Then  in  answer  to  a  letter  from  Wolsey,'^ 
expressing  a  doubt  lest  Pace  should  be  guided  by  Wingfield's 
counsels,  he  tells  Burbank,  "  Sir,  you  may  show  unto  my  lord 
Cardinal  mine  opinion  of  Summer-shall-be-green  ^  (the  name  by 
which  Sir  Eobert  was  known  in  Pace's  circle),  and  put  his 
grace  out  of  doubt  that  dreams  and  new  inventions  cannot  let 
(hinder)  me  to  do  that  see  I  most  expedient  according  to  my 
charge." 

To  no  purpose  did  Maximilian  lavish  his  blandishments 
and  caresses  on  this  clever  diplomatist.  He  sent  polite  invita- 
tions to  Pace,  but  Pace  politely  declined  them.  A  small  taste 
only  of  the  liberality  of  England  as  an  encouragement  for  the 
enterjirize.  No,  not  a  ducat,  until  he  was  fairly  in  motion. 
So,  to  his  great  chagrin,  Maximilian  was  compelled  to  abandon 
his  ordinary  routine  of  excuses,  and  drop  his  intrigues  with 
the  French  for  a  time  at  least.  At  last  the  expedition  got 
under  weigh  :  the  Swiss  were  commanded  by  Galeazzo  and 
Pace  ;  the  Emperor  took  the  lead  at  the  head  of  his  own 
troops.  The  two  armies  marched  a  mile  apart.  The  first 
detachment  started  on  the  20th  of  February,  1516,  and  was 
rapidly  followed.  As  early  as  the  29th  the  Emperor  had 
reached  Maran  in  the  Tyrol ;  was  at  Trent  on  the  2nd  of 
March  ;  left  on  the  9th  for  Italy,  intending  to  be  at  the  fray 
himself,  if  possible.  "I  pray  God,"  says  Wingfield,^  "send 
him  speed,  as  yesterday  the  good  Prince  received  the  sacra- 
ment and  made  his  Paske,*  so  that  from  henceforth  he  may 
the  more  liberally  intend  to  martial  acts."  Pace  was  in  high 
spirits.  If  the  King  and  the  Cardinal  could  see  what  he  sees, 
they  would  not  "miss  the  opportunity  for  a  million  of  gold," 
he  exclaims  in  an  access  of  military  enthusiasm.^  At  that 
moment  of  triumph  even  his  dislike  and  habitual  distrust  of 
the  Emperor  were  forgotten.  "  The  Emperor  undertakes  this 
expedition,"  he  wrote  to  Wolsey,*^  "  against  the  mind  of  all  his 
council.  All  the  good  is  done  by  himself.  It  is  a  pity  to  hear 
how  they  do  peel  and  pluck  him  of  his  money,  whereby  his 

'  1565,  sq.  expression  to   Sir  John,  "  thou  latter 

-  I    think    the    expression    must  Lammas!"    These  glimpses  of  the  im- 

liave  been  derived  from  some  popular  pressions  of  rural  life,  still  lingering 

ballad;    for   in  another  letter  to  the  in  the  English  mind,  and  recorded  in 

same     correspondent     Pace    writes :  these  cant  phrases,  are  veiy  curious. 

"  As     touching     new    inventions     of  ^  II.  1644. 

Siimmer-shall-he- Green,  you   did  very  *  Easter  Sunday  fell  this  year  on 

wisely    and    kindly    offer    your    life  23rd  March. 

therein.     For  you  shall  not  die  there-  *  II.  1564. 

for."     Are  the  last  words  a  quotation  *  II.  1634. 

also  ?    rrince  Hemy  uses  a  kindred 


1516.]  TRANSMISSION   OF   MONEY.  123 

good  intents  be  oftentimes  greatly  let.  Surely  of  his  own 
person  no  man  can  honestly  make  other  relation,  but  that  he 
is  a  noble,  wise,  kind,  and  manly  Prince."  Wingfield  could 
only  express  his  admiration  by  the  extravagant  remark,  that 
God  and  the  King  this  year  "  had  done  miracles."^ 

One  difficulty  stood  in  the  way  which  even  the  genius  of 
Wolsey  could  not  entirely  surmount, — but  one, — and  that  was 
the  difficulty  of  sending  money  from  England.     There  were 
but  two  ways  then  of  foreign  exchange  ;  either  to  transmit 
coin  direct  to  the  army  by  messengers,  or  ship  bullion  to 
Antwerp,  there  to  be  exchanged  and  forwarded  to  its  destina- 
tion by  the  bankers  Frescobaldi,  the  Fuggers,  or  the  Campucci. 
The  merchants  were  not  always  to  be  trusted  ;  their  terms  for 
discounting  were  exorbitant;  they  took  their  own  time  in  sending 
the  money  to  its  proper  destination,   and   had   a   thousand 
excuses  for  delay  which  no  one  could  contravene.     To  trust 
messengers  with  large  sums  of  bullion  was  less  satisfactory. 
How  was  it  to  be  disposed  about  their  persons  and  how  escape 
discovery  ?     How  could  it  be  stowed  in  sufficient  quantity  for 
so  large  a  host  ?     How  were  the  carriers  themselves  to  make 
their  way  in  safety  through  a  hostile  territory,  swarming  with 
robbers,  where  even  single  and  unencumbered  travellers  dared 
scarcely  venture  ?     Such  a  sum  as  300,000  gold  crowns  could 
not  even  be  shipped  from  England  without  provoking  discus- 
sion  and    attracting  attention.      All   kinds  of  excuses  were 
invented  to  draw  curiosity  and  cupidity  off  the  scent.     A  score 
of  times  did  Giustinian  urge  upon  the  Cardinal  that  he  was 
sending  money  to  the  Emperor  for  a  war  against  Italy;  as 
often  was  he  met  with  the  reply  that  his  suspicions  were  un- 
founded.    On  one  occasion,^  after  listening  most  patiently  for 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  Giustinian's  remonstrances  (a  thing 
not  very  usual),  the  Cardinal  went  so  far  as  to  say,  "I  will 
speak  to  you  with   all  sincerity  and  truth,  as  it  becomes  a 
Cardinal,  on  the  honour  of  the  cardinalate  "    (his  favourite 
expression),    laying  his  hand   upon  his   breast:   "It  is  true 
that  this  most  serene  king  has  remitted  money  to  Flanders, 
which  will  reach  Germany  and  perhaps  Italy ;  for  two  pur- 
poses; — the  first  is  for  the  purchase  of  inlaid  armour,  the 
other  for  a  quantity  of  very  fine  jewels  pledged  by  certain 
princes  in  France,  Germany,  and  Italy.     Altbough  the  money 
may  reach  our  ambassadors,  it  will  not  come  into  the  power 
of  the  Emperor ;  for  you  need  not  think  tliat  the  king  would 

■  II.  1633.  "  Jan.  2,  1516.     No.  1380. 


124  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   YIH.  [A.D. 

expend  his  treasure  to  aid  the  Emperor  in  the  recovery  of 
Brescia  and  Verona.  No  man  in  this  kingdom  has  so  much  as 
thought  of  such  a  thing,  or  of  waging  war  on  the  King  of 
France,  or  of  opposing  any  of  his  undertakings.  By  the 
honour  of  the  cardiualate  what  we  tell  you  is  the  truth,  and 
they  who  have  asserted  otherwise  lied  in  their  teeth."  ^  Yet, 
in  spite  of  so  solemn  a  contradiction,  the  rumour  spread  in  all 
directions.  Knight  heard  of  it  at  Mechlin.  The  Italian 
merchants  in  Antwerp  had  informed  him,  as  he  wrote,  that 
none  of  the  Italian  bankers  could  furnish  half  the  sum  required, 
"in  the  high  parts  of  Almain  " — not  even  the  Fuggers  and  the 
Belzers.  Already  since  Christmas  last,  he  added,  one  mer- 
chant had  taken  sanctuary  at  Antwerp  for  a  debt  of  35,000L 
Flemish,  of  which  the  staplers  would  lose  12,000L^  To  send 
over  50,000L  in  coin  to  Italy,  for  soldiers'  pay,  was  a  gigantic 
enterprize,  of  which  modern  times  can  form  no  conception. 

For  the  present  all  things  went  merrily;  Swiss  and 
imperialists  trooped  along  with  assured  hopes  of  victory.  On 
the  11th  of  March  the  army  reached  Verona  ;  on  the  12th  it 
crossed  the  Mincio  ;  on  the  23rd  it  was  at  the  banks  of  the 
Adda.^  Onwards  and  onwards,  with  a  rapidity  that  astonished 
the  Venetian  light  horse,  and  compelled  the  French  to  shut 
the  gates  of  Milan,  and  protect  it  with  a  broad  belt  of  fire  and 
desolation.  Onwards  across  tottering  bridges  and  through 
waving  fields  of  corn ;  for  the  road  was  more  familiar  than 
their  own  homes  to  these  Swiss  and  German  freebooters. 

On  Easter  Monday  (24th)  the  invaders  had  reached  within 
nine  miles  of  Milan  ;  ^  one  brisk  push,  and  all  would  be  over. 
Easter  Tuesday  dawned,  but  a  change  had  now  come  over  the 
Emperor.  The  story  is  a  strange  one  and  will  best  be  told  in 
Pace's  letter  to  Wolsey. 

"In  my  last  letters  I  advertised  your  gi-ace  of  the  Emperor  at  the 
river  of  Ade  (Adda),  and  how  wisely  and  valiantly  he  behaved  upon 
Easter  even,  when  the  Frenchmen  and  the  A^enetians  showed  themselves 
to  be  in  areadiness  to  fight  with  him  and  the  Swiss.  Now  your  grace 
shall  understand  that  my  lord  Cardinal  Sedunensis,^  lord  Galias,'*  with  all 
other  captains,  upon  Easter  Monday  moved,  desired,  and  prayed  most 
instantly  the  said  Emperor  to  persecute  the  Frenchmen,  and  shewed  him 
evidently  that  they  could  in  no  wise  keep  Milan  if  he  would  be  contented 
to  use  their  counsel.     But  it  was  not  possible  to  induce  him  thereunto  ; 

^  Other  members  of   the   council  five  miles  of  Milan,  where  they  lay 

made    similar    answers    when     Gius-  till   the   next    day,    the    25th."       Sir 

tinian  applied  to  them.     See  II.  1294.  Rob.  Wingfleld,  No.  1736. 

-  II.  1384-.  ^  The  Cardinal  of  Sion,  whom  Pace 

*  II.  1699.  always  speaks  of  by  his  Latin  title. 

*  II.    1721,    "  Prewtelle,     within  ^  Galeazzo  Visoonti. 


1516.]  THE   EMPEROR   HANGS   BACK.  125 

and  no  man  could  ne  can  conject  what  tiling  moved  him  to  be  so  slack  at  that 
time,  when  every  man  did  see  the  victory  in  his  hands,  and  the  expulsion 
of  the  Frenchmen  out  of  Italy.  But  iipon  Easter  Tuesday  in  the  morn- 
ing, being  within  nine  miles  of  Milan,  he  sent  for  Sir  Robert  Wingtield 
and  me,  and,  showing  himself  to  be  sore  moved,  said  that  he  had  perfect 
knowledge  that  the  French  king  had  offered  unto  the  king's  grace  our 
master  to  forsake  utterly  Scotland,  and  to  set  apart  all  his  practices  there, 
so  that  his  grace  would  keep  hrm  peace  and  anuty  with  him.  Hereunto 
we  made  this  answer  :  that  his  Majesty  should  in  no  wise  be  moved 
herewith,  for  we  would  lose  our  lives  if  it  should  be  found  by  him  or  any 
other  man  that  the  king's  grace  had  or  did  intend  by  any  means  to  let 
this  his  enterprise  in  Italy,  but  rather  to  advance  it  and  set  it  forthward  ; 
and  showed  three  evident  reasons  against  the  same  :  one,  that  his  grace 
paid  the  Swisses'  wages  in  the  aid  of  his  Majesty  ;  the  other,  that  his 
grace  had  sent  his  ambassadors  unto  his  nephew  the  jn'ince  of  Castile,  for 
to  ofier  unto  him  men  and  money  witli  his  own  person  for  defence  of  his 
realm,  which  the  French  king  intendeth  to  usurp  ;  thirdly,  I  declared 
unto  him  the  king's  mind  in  making  a  universal  confederation  betwixt  his 
Majesty  and  others  comprised  in  the  commission  lately  sent  by  your 
grace  to  Sir  Robert  Wingtield  and  me.  The  said  Emperor  could  not  deny 
but  these  our  reasons  were  evident,  and  made  this  answer  only,  viz.  that 
he  trusted  that  the  king's  grace  would  not  forsake  him.  For  all  this  yet 
that  day  he  would  not  move,  but  did  sit  still  in  pensiveness,  and  was 
angry  Avith  every  man  that  did  move  him  to  set  forthward. 

"  About  night  he  sent  for  my  lord  the  Cardinal  Sedunensis,  Sir 
Robert  Wingtield,  and  me,  and  said  plainly  he  could  not  perform  his 
promise  made  unto  the  Swiss  in  paying  the  residue  of  their  wages  for  the 
two  months,  unto  such  time  that  the  king's  money  should  come,  for  he 
had  none  for  to  content  his  own  army,  ne  yet  to  sustain  his  household, 
and  for  that  cause  was  compelled  to  return  back  and  not  to  lay  siege  to 
the  city  of  Milan.  My  said  lord  Cardinal  was  sore  troubled  with  these 
words,  and  in  most  wise  and  substantial  manner,  using  all  reasons  con- 
venient for  that  jjurpose,  moved  him  to  the  contrary,  putting  no  doubt 
(as  truth  was)  in  taking  of  the  said  city  of  Milan,  where  he  should  lack  no 
money.  Sir  Robert  Wingtield  affirmed  the  same.  As  for  me  I  did 
plainly  show  unto  him  the  most  great  inconvenients  that  should  ensue 
upon  his  return,  viz.  loss  of  all  his  cities  in  Italy  evident,  the  realms  of 
Naples  and  Navarre,  his  own  extreme  dishonour,  with  the  loss  of  the 
king's  money  expended  in  his  aid.  But  neither  reason  ne  persuasion 
could  move  him  to  do  well.  Wherefore  we  thought  it  necessary  to  speak 
with  his  own  most  secret  servants  and  councillors,  whom  we  found  as  evil 
contented  with  him  as  we  were  ourselves  ;  for  they  did  not  only  show 
unto  him  all  the  inconvenients  before  rehearsed,  but  also  added  tliereunto, 
that  if  he  should  draw  back  without  cause  or  peril  at  that  time,  no  man 
within  Almain  would  esteem  him  the  valor  of  one  groat. 

"  Whiles  we  were  in  this  communication,  arrived  from  Milan  a 
Spaniard,  a  vile  peison,  sent  from  the  duke  of  Bourbon  to  the  Emperor, 
with  this  message  :  that  if  the  said  Emperor  would  come  to  Milan,  and 
drink  with  him,  he  .should  be  welcome  ;  if  not,  he  would  meet  the  Emperor 
by  the  way.  Herewith  the  Emperor  showed  himself  to  be  very  glad,  and 
commanded  the  manjuis  of  Brandenbui-g  to  send  a  trumpet  inmiediately  to 
the  said  duke,  and  otier  him  battle  the  day  following  afore  the  walls  of 
Milan,  and  to  show  him  that  he  that  had  otiered  him  battle  at  the  three 
rivers,  viz.  Mynce,  Oleo,  and  Ade,'  would  not  be  afraid  to  fight  with  him 
at  Milan.  And  herein  he  kept  his  ju-omise,  and  went  thither  with  all  the 
army  in  goodly  and  sure  order,  ready  to  liave  made  an  end  of  this 
business.  But  the  said  duke,  when  he  did  see  this,  ho  sent  the  said 
trumpet  again  with  word  unto  the  Emperor  that  he  would  tight,  but  not 

'  The  Mincio,  Oglio,  and  Adda. 


126  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

at  that  time,  knowing  right  well  that  it  was  not  possible  for  him  to  obtain 
the  victory.  The  Emperor,  this  answer  had,  would  tarry  no  longer, 
though  the  lord  Galias  advertised  him  that  the  Frenchmen  could  in  no 
wise  bide  within  the  city  two  days,  both  for  lack  of  horse-meat  and  fear 
of  insurrection  of  the  people  against  them,  wliich  undoubtedly  had 
followed  if  the  Emperor  would  have  continued  there  but  one  night  ;  but 
neither  he,  ne  my  lord  Cardinal,  ne  none  other,  could  induce  him  there- 
unto. 

"  The  Frenchmen,  immediately  after  his  returning,  did  begin  to  burn 
the  suburbs  of  the  city,  and  destroyed  utterly  the  habitations  of  60,000 
honest  poor  men,  fearing  that  the  Swiss  would  have  lien  in  them,  as  they 
intended  to  do  if  the  Emperor  had  not  let  them.  The  said  Swiss,  seeing 
his  departing,  sent  unto  him  two  of  their  chief  captains  for  to  advertise 
him,  that  it  was  not  their  manner  to  show  their  backs  to  their  enemies,  and 
therefore  they  would  not  depart.  The  Emperor  made  unto  them  this 
answer  :  that  he  would  lead  them  another  way,  where  they  should  have  a 
sure  victory,  without  any  great  shedding  of  blood  ;  and  so  desired  them 
to  follow  him,  or  else  he  would  have  from  them  his  horsemen  and 
artillery  :  and  by  these  means  he  had  them  from  thence,  to  their  incredible 
discontentation.  And  he  himself  passed  the  river  of  Ade  again,  the 
righter  way  towards  Almain  than  the  Frenchmen,  saying  that  he  had 
certain  practice  there  for  to  take  the  town  of  Crema  ;  but  this  was  but  a 
tiling  feigned  for  to  colour  his  flying. 

"  The  Swiss  went  to  the  city  of  August,  straightway  towards  Milan, 
which  city  the  lord  Galias  and  they  did  take  by  force.  The  castle 
thereof  was  by  the  space  of  six  hours  valiantly  defended  by  the  Frenchmen, 
who  did  slay  four  or  five  Swiss,  wherewith  the  residue  were  so  moved 
that  they  made  a  vow  [not]  to  depart  unto  the  time  they  had  taken  the 
said  castle  by  force,  and  slain  every  Frenchman  within  it.  They  set  so 
fiercely  upon  [it]  that  it  was  not  possible  for  the  Frenchmen  to  defend  it 
longer.  First,  they  ofiered  to  yield  themselves  unto  the  mercy  of  the 
Swiss  ;  but  they  would  take  no  condition,  but  killed  every  man  found 
within  it,  to  the  number  of  150  ;  and  divers  there  were  that  ofiered 
thousands  of  crowns  for  their  lives,  but  nothing  could  help.  This  done 
they  sent  a  message  to  the  Emperor,  by  the  counsel  of  the  lord  Galias  and 
me,  with  these  tidings,  and  for  to  desire  him  either  to  come  personally 
with  his  army,  or  else,  if  he  feared  his  own  person,  to  send  his  horsemen 
unto  them,  and  put  himself  in  surety  in  the  city  of  Brixia  (Brescia),  or 
any  other  place  where  it  would  please  him,  until  such  time  as  they  had 
expelled  the  Frenchmen  out  of  Italy. 

"  I  assiu'e  your  lordship  the  Swiss  neither  doth  ne  will  lack  in  anything 
concerning  the  destruction  of  the  Frenchmen.  The  Emperor  hath  kept 
no  promise  with  them.  Nothing  grieveth  them  but  this,  that  the 
Emperor  goeth  more  backward  than  forthward,  and  putteth  every  man 
in  suspicion  of  his  flying  away  into  Almain  ;  and  if  he  so  do,  this  enteiv 
prise  is  clean  lost  (quod  Deus  avertat !)  to  the  ruin  evident  of  himself  and 
the  destruction  of  all  Christendom.  My  lord  Cardinal  Sedunensis,  the 
lord  Galias,  and  I,  be  almost  dead  for  sorrow  ;  and  the  said  lord  Galias 
hath  desired  [me]  to  write  these  words,  to  be  kept  secret  unto  your 
grace,  viz.  that  if  the  Emperor  do  at  this  time  fly  withoat  cause,  he  shall 
commit  greater  treason  against  all  princes  Christian  than  ever  did  Judas 
against  Christ. 

"  The  Swiss  will  in  no  case  that  the  lord  Galiace  or  T  depart  from 
them,  though  the  Emperor  fly  away  ;  but  they  will  keep  both  him  and 
me  in  pledge  of  their  wages,  as  well  for  the  residue  of  the  second  month 
as  the  whole  of  the  third,  if  they  shall  continue  the  said  third  month  and 
deserve  their  wages,  as  they  will  surely  do  if  the  Emperor  let  them  not. 
If  he  do  let  them,  they  intend  to  do  him  a  shrewd  turn.  They  have 
knowledge  that  the  said  Emperor  should  say  he  feared  them,  which  saying 


1516.]  THE   EMPEROR   WITHDRAWS.  127 

is  but  a  frivoll  excuse  and  seeking  of  an  occasion  to  fly  away  ;  for  no  one 
living  could  have  served  him  more  faithfully  than  they  have  done  hither- 
to ward,  and  so  they  will  continue  if  he  give  them  none  occasion  to  the 
contrary.     From  the  city ,  the  first  day  of  April." 

Was  it  a  trick  of  the  Emperor  from  the  first?  Was  it  in 
a  sudden  fit  of  resentment  at  not  having  received  money  from 
England  ?  Had  he  been  dekided  by  the  French  ;  or,  what  is 
more  probable,  had  he  sold  himself  and  his  honour,  too  often 
sold  before,  for  French  gold  ?  Francis  wrote  to  Palvoisin,  his 
ambassador  at  Kome,  only  a  week  before, '^  that  the  Emperor 
had  been  soliciting  his  amity  through  the  Prince  of  Castile. 
But  as  this  letter  was  evidently  intended  to  be  seen  by  the 
Pope,  who  was  vacillating  between  one  party  and  the  other  ; 
and  as  Francis  had  sent  in  it  a  very  significant  message  that 
he  intended,  if  necessary,  to  pass  into  Italy  with  an  army, 
and  in  that  case  he  "  would  crave  the  honor  once  more 
of  kissing  the  feet  of  his  Holiness ;  "  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  this  statement,  so  damaging  to  Maximilian's  repu- 
tation, was  anything  more  than  a  political  ruse.  But  the 
exact  truth  of  this  and  other  passages  of  history  can  never 
be  known  until  other  Governments,  following  the  example 
of  this  country,  shall  throw  open  their  archives  to  historical 
inquirers.^ 

The  Emperor  continued  to  hover  at  a  distance,  and  would 
take  no  resolution.  Sir  Robert  Wingfield's  account  of  the 
matter  may  be  seen  in  a  letter  dated  the  4th  of  April.^  It  is 
of  course  the  Emperor's  version.  It  rested  upon  two  points; — 
first,  his  inability  to  convey  provisions  and  money  in  conse- 
quence of  the  superiority  of  the  enemy's  cavalry ;  and,  secondly, 
his  fear  of  the  Swiss,  Germans,  and  Spaniards,  who  were 
mutinous  for  lack  of  pay.  Satisfactory  to  no  one  else,  this 
excuse  was  sufficient  for  the  Emperor.  Turning  a  deaf  ear  to 
all  remonstrance,  he  hastened  to  put  as  large  a  space  as  he 
could  between  his  own  army  and  the  Swiss  under  Pace  and 
Galeazzo.  He  allowed  the  enemy's  cavalry  to  scour  the  country, 
and  cut  off  all  communication  between  himself  and  his  ex- 
asperated allies.^  He  recrossed  the  Adda  without  warning, 
and  turned  his  steps  in  the  direction  of  Bergamo.  The  Swiss 
were  fed  with  promises  of  his  speedy  return,  but  he  took  care 
to  prevent  them  from  doing  mischief  by  carrying  oil"  the  gun- 

•  March  17,  1516.     No.  1680.  Calorulars  of  their  contents  are  etill 

^   Since   thin  was  written  in   1861,  wantinj^. — Kd. 
the  Archives  of  most  forei<,'n  countries  ^   ll.l7-'5*'.     8of!  also  No.  1752. 

have  been  made  more  accessible;  but  *  11.  1746,  p.  4U3. 


128  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  lA.D. 

powder.  To  Wingfield  he  held  out  assurance  "that  he  would 
join  again,  and  bring  the  enterprise  to  its  desired  end."  ^  And 
Wingfield,  as  a  matter  of  course,  believed  him.  But  with  his 
promises  to  return  he  hurried  off  in  the  opposite  direction,  and 
in  a  few  days  shut  himself  up  in  the  walls  of  Trent,  leaving 
Pace  and  Galeazzo  to  their  fate.^  Sick  at  heart  and  ill  at  ease. 
Pace  wrote  to  the  Cardinal :  ^ 

"  I  am  advertised  by  Sir  Robert  Wingfield  that  the  Emperor  will  not 
leave  this  enterprise,  but  see  an  end  thereof  ;  nevertheless,  he  doth  go 
backward  still  towards  Alniain,  and  now  is  in  Valle  Camonica.  The 
Marquis  of  Brandenburg  is  coining  towards  us  with  his  men  at  arms.  If 
he  will  join  his  army  with  us,  we  shall  sleep  no  longer,  as  we  have  done 
these  15  days  by  tlie  Emperor['s]  express  commandment,  which,  if  we 
should  have  broken,  the  Emperor  would  have  been  gone.  Yesterday  the 
Swiss  did  send  unto  him  two  ambassadors,  for  to  have  a  final  conclusion 
of  his  mind  ;  for  they  will  have  no  more  delays  ne  trifles,  for  this  delaying 
of  time  and  also  of  money  is  death  to  them  and  all  us." — From  Laude 
(Lodi),  the  10th  of  April. 

Five  days  after  Pace  continues  : 

"The  Emperor,  notwithstanding  his  late  writing  unto  the  Swiss,  and 
promise  made  for  to  join  with  them,  is  undoubtedly  departed  in  great 
haste  towards  Almain,  and  afoi-e  this  time  is  arrived  nigh  unto  Trent. 
This  his  sudden  departing  hath  marvellously  discouraged  the  Swiss,  with 
all  other  desiring  the  prosperous  success  of  the  enterprise.  Nevertheless, 
because  that  he  hath  left  behind  him  the  marquis  of  Brandenburg  with  his 
army,  and  commanded  him  to  join  with  us,  some  hope  there  is  that  he 
will  not  mar  all. 

"  The  lord  Galias  hath  at  this  time  a  very  good  intelligence  with  the 
Pope,  which  hath  proceeded  by  the  king's  writing  unto  his  Holiness,  and 
also  by  my  writings  according  to  your  Grace's  commandment.  Your 
Grace  shall  have  some  knowledge  thereof  by  a  letter  from  the  Cardinal 
Saint  Mary  in  Porticu,  directed  unto  the  said  lord  Galiace,  whereof  he 
sendeth  a  copy  at  this  time  in  ciphers  unto  Master  Anchises.  If  the 
Emperor  had  not  gone  backward,  the  Pope  had  been  surely  ours  afore 
this  time  ;  insomuch  that  now  the  French  king  doth  complain  of  his 
Holiness's  dissimulation,  saying  that  he  hath  nothing  of  him  but  letters. 

* '  Yesterday  arrived  here  a  courier  with  letters  of  the  Emj^eror  directed 
unto  the  lord  Galiace,  desiring  him  to  declare  the  contents  of  the  same 
unto  the  Swiss,  which  were  these  :  First,  that  they  should  be  of  good 
comfort,  for  he  would  shortly  join  with  them  again,  with  great  power  and 
all  provision  necessary  for  continuance  of  this  war.  Secondarily,  that 
five  and  twenty  thousand  florins  of  the  king's  money,  which  they  had  long 
lacked,  was  brought  into  the  city  of  Brixia  (Brescia),  from  thence  to  be 
conveyed  immediately  into  the  field  to  them  by  the  marquis  of  Brandenburg. 
To  whom  we  sent  two  captains  of  the  Swiss  for  to  understand  the  truth  of 
the  said  money  :  and  they  advertised  their  company  here  that  the  said 
sum  was  within  Brixia  ;  but  at  such  time  as  the  governor  of  the  city 
would  have  sent  it  with  a  sufficient  company  unto  the  said  marquis,  the 
Emperor['s]  soldiers  being  in  the  city  did  sequester  the  same  there,  for  so 
much  owed  unto  them  by  the  said  Emperor.  The  Swiss,  hearing  of  this, 
hath  begun  marvellously  to  murmur  amongst  themselves  against  the 
Emperor,  saying  that  now  twice  they  have  been  betrayed  by  him  sith  the 

»  II.  1752.  -  April  15.  ^  jj   1754 


1516.]  DISAPPOINTMENT   OF   THE   SWISS.  129 

beginning  of  this  enterprise  ;  once  at  his  departing  from  Milan,  which 
they  might  have  taken  if  he  would  have  suffered  them  to  have  lodged 
there  but  one  night  ;  and  now  again  in  this  sequestration  of  the  king's 
money  ;  for  they  think  it  is  done  by  his  consent,  and  that  he  will  do  in 
like  manner  with  the  residue  of  the  king's  money,  which  he  writeth  to  be 
at  the  city  of  Trent,  or  nigh  thence.  Wherefore  the  Swiss,  seeing  that 
they  can  lie  no  longer  there,  both  for  lack  of  victual  and  money,  they 
have  concluded  to  go  themselves  against  the  said  money,  having  both  the 
said  lord  Galiace  and  me  for  hostages  and  prisoners  ;  and  also  to  know 
what  the  Emperor  intendeth.  For,  notwithstanding  his  daily  fair  writings 
(without  effect),  they  can  belieYe  none  other  but  that  he  will  betray  us 
all,  and  go  straight  into  High  Almain  ;  whereby  this  enterprise  shall  be 
utterly  destroyed  and  the  king's  money  cast  away,  not  only  to  the 
Emperor's  extreme  rebuke  and  shame,  but  also  to  the  great  damage  of  all 
his  friends  ;  and,  for  to  speak  more  plainly,  to  the  ruin  of  all  Christendom, 
excejit  that  God  and  wise  princes  make  substantial  provision  against  the 
same. 

' '  The  lord  Galias  and  I  both  be  at  this  time  sick  in  our  beds,  and 
almost  dead,  more  for  thought  than  for  sickness,  considering  the  unreason- 
able demeanour  of  the  Emperor,  for  he  hath  no  manner  of  cause  thus  to 
deal,  having  by  us  hourly  perfect  knowledge  that  all  thing[s]  doth 
succeed  prosperously  for  his  intent  against  the  Frenchmen  ;  for  not  only 
the  rebels  of  Switzerland  hath  forsaken  the  Frenchmen,  and  many  more 
Swiss  doth  come  in  to  our  aid,  but  also  the  A'enetians  and  they  be  at 
variance  amongst  themselves,  and  neither  of  them  hath  any  money  to 
sustain  their  armies  :  insomuch  that  tliree  days  passed  Master  Andreas 
Gritie,  general  captain  of  the  said  Venetians,  was  like  to  be  slain  in  his 
own  house  by  his  own  soldiers  for  lack  of  money.  Furthermore,  all  the 
country  is  in  areadiness  to  arise  to  our  aid.  These  premises  be  occasion, 
which  (as  me  seemeth)  should  not  only  move  an  Emperor  to  set  forthward, 
but  an  ass  :  yet  he  neither  will  set  forthward  himself,  ne  suffer  us  to 
do  ;  for  he  hath  left  us  artillery  without  gunpowder,  and  hath  daily  pro- 
mised to  send  us  some  ;  but  as  yet  we  did  see  none,  but  hath  been 
compelled  by  force  to  consume  twenty-two  days  in  vain. 

' '  The  said  marquis  of  Brandenburg  is  gone  personally  to  Brixia  for  to 
see  if  he  can  get  the  said  money  sequestered,  and  to  bring  it  to  the  Swiss. 
And  when  I  had  written  thus  far,  we  had  letters  from  the  s:iid  manpiis, 
containing  his  arrival  unto  the  said  city  of  Brixia,  and  that  the  soldiers 
within  w(3uld  not  suffer  him  to  enter,  ne  to  have  the  said  money,  biit 
compelled  him  to  depart  without  it  ;  so  that  the  lord  Galiace  and  I  be 
now  in  extreme  desperation,  not  so  much  for  the  evident  jeopardy  of  our 
lives,  as  for  the  loss  of  this  great  enterprise,  by  the  false  and  crafty  mean 
of  them  that  hath  retained  in  this  manner  the  King's  money,  nothing 
appertaining  unto  them. 

"  To  show  plainly  the  truth  unto  your  Grace,  everything  is  now  clean 
out  of  order  here,  and  very  little  hope  of  any  amendment  by  reason  of  the 
Emperor's  thus  departing.  Few  men  or  none  doth  know  surely  the  cause 
thereof,  but  many  doth  sui)pose  it  is  the  death  of  the  late  king  of  Hungary,^ 
and  the  lucre  that  he  should  win  by  tlie  same,  whereof  he  had  tidings  at  liis 
being  within  six  miles  of  Milan,  and  after  that  never  had  mind  to  go 
forthward,  but  the  day  following  began  to  draw  back  towards  Almain. 
Some  doth  suspect  a  secret  practice  with  tlie  French  king  for  a  large  sum 
of  money,  as  it  is  comprised  in  my  lord  the  Cardinal  Saint  Mary  in  I'orticu's 
letters  ;  but  hereof  I  could  never  have  any  perfect  knowledge,  and  as  yet 
I  think  it  is  not  true.  I  am  informed  that  the  said  Emperor  intendeth  to 
write  unto  the  king's  Grace  in  excusatioii  of  tliis  his  (Icparting,  Miat  ho 
feared  that  not  only  the  Swiss  but  also  his  own  lanceknighta  would,  for 

'  Ladislaus  VT.  or  VII. 
VOL.  I.  ^ 


130  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

lack  of  money,  have  sold  him  unto  the  Frenchmen,  if  he  should  have 
tarried  at  the  city  of  Milan  anywhile.  He  may  write  what  it  pleaseth  him, 
or  cause  other  to  do  the  same  ;  but  I  assure  your  lordship  all  that  is  but 
trifles.  These  my  letters  doth  contain  the  very  truth  of  the  Emperor's 
acts  ;  tarn  in  bono  qumn  in  malo  veritatem  scribo,  postposita  ouini  affectione. 
For  it  is  impossible  for  the  Swiss  to  be  more  obedient  unto  any  prince 
than  they  have  been  unto  him,  and  yet  be  ;  and  so  will  they  continue  if 
the  default  be  not  in  him. 

"From  Laude,  the  15  of  April." 

A  month  passed,  but  no  amendment.  Then  Pace  wrote 
again  : — ^ 

"Please  it  [your]  Grace, — From  the  city  of  Laude  I  did  write  unto 
the  same  three  letters,  containing  the  Emperor's  sudden  and  wilful 
departing  from  the  walls  of  Milan,  which  undoubtedly  the  Swiss  had 
taken  if  the  said  Emperor  would  have  tarried  there  but  two  days  ;  but 
neither  counsel,  nor  reason,  nor  resp[ect]  to  his  own  or  his  friends' 
honour,  could  induce  him  to  remain,  but  he  returned  immediately  towards 
Almain,  leaving  the  Swiss  at  the  said  city  of  Laude,  and  commanding 
them  to  continue  there  until  such  time  as  he  should  return  again  with  a 
greater  army,  more  great  guns  and  gunpowder,  whereof  he  left  none  with 
the  Swiss  ;  but  unto  this  day  he  kept  no  manner  of  promise  in  any  of 
these  premises.  Wherefore  the  said  Swiss,  seeing  tlaeiiiselves  hereby 
deceived,  and  having  also  knowledge  that  the  Emjseror's  soldiers  in  Brixia 
had  intercepted  2.3,000  florins  of  the  king's  money,  sent  unto  them,  and, 
lacking  victuals,  departed  unto  the  city  of  Bergamo,  where  was  abundance 
of  victuals,  and  there  tarried  10  or  12  days,  as  Veil  for  the  Emperor,  who 
never  did  come,  as  for  the  kin[g]'s  money  promised  to  them  by  me  sub 
poena  capitis,  according  to  your  Grace's  commandment,  for  to  retain  them. 

"  In  the  meantime  tidings  came  to  us  that  my  lord  Cardinal  Sedunensis 
was  sent  in  haste  from  the  Emperor  into  the  tield  as  his  lieutenant,  and 
should  bring  with  him  all  the  king's  money,  and  content  them  to  the 
uttermost.  And  herewith  they  were  so  glad  that  they  came  running  to 
my  house,  and  said  that  they  alone,  without  the  Emperor,  would  flght 
with  the  Frenchmen,  though  they  were  in  number  an  100,000.  But  when 
my  said  lord  Cardinal  was  arrived,  they  shortly  had  knowledge  that  he 
had  brought  but  one  and  twenty  thousand  florins  ;  which  sum,  when  they 
had  paid  unto  them,  truly  they  did  murmurate  among  themselves  that 
there  was  no  more  money  ;  and  the  night  after  there  departed  7  or  8,000, 
saying  that  if  there  had  been  any  more  money  my  said  lord  Cardinal 
should  have  brought  it,  and  that  they  were  deceived  by  him  as  much  as 
by  the  Emperor. 

"  The  Frenchmen,  knovring  of  the  departing  of  so  many  Swiss,  jointly 
vtith  the  Venetians  did  draw  within  three  mile  of  us,  so  that  we  were 
compelled  to  depart  from  the  said  city  of  Bergamo,  because  it  was  none 
equal  place  for  us  to  flght  in.  But  all  the  chief  captains  of  the  Swiss  did 
come  unto  the  lord  Gaiiace  and  me,  and  comforted  us,  saying  that  for  the 
Emperor  they  would  not  move  one  foot  to  strike  battle,  but  for  the  king's 
sake  they  would  go  immediately  into  the  plain  field,  and  sufl"er  the 
Frenchmen  to  follow  them — having  this  opinion  that  they  fled  for  fear — 
and  there  put  themselves  [in]  ordinance  and  tight  with  the  said  French- 
men, notwithstanding  the  departing  of  one  half  of  their  company.  And 
thus  they  did  in  deed.  But  when  the  Frenchmen  did  see  them  in  this 
areadiness  for  to  strike  battle,  they  made  a  show  with  their  horsemen 
alone,  leaving  their  footmen  and  artillery  behind  them.  The  Swiss  did 
draw  nigh  unto  the  said  horsemen,  and  commanded  their  trumpets  to  be 

»  No.  1877. 


1516.]  SIGN   AND   PACE   IMPRISONED.  131 

blown  and  provoked  them  to  battle  ;  but  it  would  not  be.  The  Swiss, 
seeing  this,  went  towards  tliem  within  gxmshot,  and  caused  the  great 
artillery  to  be  shot  amongst  them,  wherewith  divers,  both  men-of-arms 
and  light  horse,  were  slain,  and  the  residue  departed  clean  out  of  the 
field.  The  Swiss  being  afoot  could  not  follow  them,  and  the  better  part 
of  the  Emperor's  horsemen  were  departed  out  of  o[ur]  field  for  lack  of 
their  wa[g]es,  and  2,000  lance-knights  in  like  manner,  to  the  great 
discontentation  of  the  Swiss,  numbering  that  amongst  other  deceits. 

"  This  done,  we  went  to  a  town  named  Bixansane,  and  there  the 
Swiss  would  tarry  a  day  or  two  for  money.  As  soon  as  we  arrived  there, 
my  lord  the  Cardinal  Sedunensis,  the  count  Cariate,  and  I,  were  taken 
and  put  to  hold,  and  it  was  laid  unto  our  charge  that  we  had  kept  no 
promise  with  them  ;  and  for  that  cause,  if  they  had  not  money  the  same 
day,  they  would  convey  us  as  prisoners  into  their  country.  Hoc  facfum 
fuit  a  furtnfe  popidu  pruter  voluntatem  ducurn.  My  said  lord  Cardinal 
Sedunensis  was  put  that  day  to  great  jeopardy  of  his  life  by  reason  of 
certain  his  adversaries,  who  instigated  the  people  to  destroy  him.  Sed 
Deus  noluit  ut  taiduni  mali  eveniret  tanto  viro  ;  for  the  same  night  arrived 
a  messenger  with  x[x]xij  m.  florins,  and  thus  we  were  all  three  delivered 
out  of  prison.  The  day  following  arrived  Mr.  Leonard  Friscobalde, 
with  as  much  money  as  was  sufficient  to  pay  their  whole  wages  of  three 
months  which  they  had  served  ;  and  so  I  contented  them  according  to 
my  promise  made  unto  them.  Then  they  were  marvellously  well  contented 
with  the  king's  Grace,  considering  that  his  promises  were  no  fables,  but 
truly  performed. 

"  The  lord  Galiace  was  sore  sick  in  the  city  of  Brixia  (Brescia)  when  he 
had  knowledge  that  I  was  in  hold  ;  and  because  he  could  not  depart  out 
thereof  for  the  Venetians'  soldiers  lying  alway  tliereabout,  he  conveyed 
himself  in  the  night  over  a  mountain,  and  descended  into  lake  of  Garde, 
and  did  come  to  me  by  water,  thinking  that  I  had  been  in  greater  peril 
than  I  was.  At  his  coming  we  had  perfect  knowledge  that  the  Emi)eror 
would  join  with  us  no  more.  Whereupon  the  Swiss  did  convocate  [t  heir 
council,  and  there  determined  that  it  was  not  possible  for  them  alone  to 
proceed,  as  truth  was  ;  and  this  they  declared  unto  the  lord  Galiace  and 
me,  saying  that  they  would  never  hereafter  trust  the  Emperor,  neither 
serve  him,  but  they  would  alway  be  ready  to  serve  the  king's  Grace  at  his 
pleasure.  When  we  were  driven  to  this  extremity,  we  did  see  no  remedy 
but  for  to  procure  with  all  diligence  amongst  the  captains  that  they  would 
be  contented  to  advertise  the  superiors  of  all  the  cantons,  that  tlie  king's 
Grace  hath  contented  them  abundantly  for  their  service,  and  to  desire 
them  that  they  will  establish  none  amity  with  France  but  rather  with  the 
king's  Grace.  And  all  this  they  have  done  in  the  best  manner  that  the 
said  lord  Galiace  and  I  could  devise  ;  so  that  I  trust  this  thing  shall 
succeed  right  well,  and  that  the  said  lord  Galiace  shall  save  his  reputation 
amongst  them,  which  he  was  like  clean  to  lose  by  the  Emperor's  un- 
reasonable demeanour,  and  for  the  lack  of  the  Idng's  money  at  their  day. 

"  The  Phriperor  hath  now  in  his  field  but  4,000  lanceknights  and  1.000 
Swiss,  and  a  great  captain  of  the  same.  These  be  departed  for  to  defend 
Verona  and  Brixia,  which  stand  in  great  jeopardy  of  losing  ;  de  quo  valde 
quidem  doleo.     Snl  Caisar  {fcator  Deum)  loiKje  plus  damrd  mtretur. 

"Besides  my  three  letters  sent  unto  your  Grace  from  the  city  of 
Laude,  I  did  write  one  also  from  Bergamo,  containing  all  thing[8j 
necessary  to  be  written,  after  mine  opinion.  Glad  would  I  be  to  have 
knowledge  of  my  four  said  letters  ;  for  I  am  advertised  that  in  this  court 
they  do  lay  watch  for  to  intercept  my  letters,  fearing  them  as  comprising 
the  jjlain  truth  in  everything.  They  would  not  that  any  fault  sliouM  bo 
laid  unto  their  master,  but  to  the  Swi.ss,  who,  1  assure  [your]  (irace, 
upon  my  faith  to  God  and  to  the  king,  luive  done  in  this  oriterpriso  all 
that  it  was  possible  for  men  to  do  ;  but  the  Emperor,  to  liis  mcstunablo 


132  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

rebuke  and  shame,  would  not  suffer  them  to  take  Milan  when  they  were 
sure  to  have  it,  as  it  is  evidently  known  through  all  Italy.  The  Emperor 
hath  so  dishonoured  himself  that  no  man  need  care  whe'r  he  have  him 
friend  or  enemj^.  Nevertheless  good  it  is  to  use  tlie  counsel  of  the  good 
memoi-y  of  Pope  July,  who  said  these  words  formally  of  the  said  Emj^eror  : 
Jmperator  est  levis  et  inccmstaris  ;  alienee  jKCunice  semper  mendicus,  quam 
meile  consumtt  in  venandis  camuciis  :  est  iamen  conciliandus  nomine  diaboli, 
et  pecunia  ei  semper  est  danda. 

***** 

"  Tims  Jesu  preserve  your  Grace.     From  Trent,  12  Maij. 

"  Fidelissimus  8'"%  R.  P." 

"  Where  your  Grace  doth  write  to  have  understood  there  that  the 
Emperor  was  piit  back  by  force  by  the  French  army,  it  is  not  so  ;  for  he 
was  never  put  back,  but  went  voluntarily  and  shamefully  back,  when  he 
might  have  won  all.  The  Frenchmen  never  durst  fight  with  the  Swiss, — 
they  ever  showed  themselves  so  invincible  when  any  feat  of  arms  was  to 
be  done.  They  never  skirmished  with  the  Frenchmen  but  they  were  put 
back,  and  not  we,  both  with  shame  and  loss." 

The  disastrous  result  of  the  expedition  brought  out,  as 
such  things  do,  the  baser  nature  of  all  concerned  in  it.  The 
Swiss  fell  into  disorder,  plundered,  sacked,  or  murdered  what- 
ever fell  in  their  way.  Pace,  Sion,  and  Galeazzo  were  thrown 
into  prison.  To  increase  these  misfortunes,  a  bitter  feud 
broke  out  between  the  leaders.  Sion,  never  friendly  with 
Galeazzo  since  the  battle  of  Mariguano,  was  now  more  incensed 
against  him  than  ever.  He  suspected  Galeazzo's  intimacy 
with  Pace ;  and  accused  both  of  impeding  the  measures 
necessary  for  success.^  The  Emperor,  with  his  usual  facility 
of  giving  away  that  which  did  not  belong  to  him,  had  promised 
no  small  sums  of  money  to  the  army,  and  sent  Sion  to  demand 
it  from  Pace.^  On  Pace's  refusal,  high  w^ords  ensued  ;  the 
Emperor  threatened  that  he  would  have  the  money,  whether 
Pace  liked  it  or  not,  asseverating  that  if  he  did  not  have  what 
he  desired  he  would  return  home  again :  "like  children,"  adds 
Pace,  "that  say  they  will  not  go  to  school  without  bread  and 
butter.  Sion  dares  not  refuse  him,  and  Sir  Robert  takes  him 
for  a  God,  and  thinks  that  all  his  deeds  and  thoughts  do 
proceed  ex  Spiritii  Sancto.''  Against  such  malign  influences 
it  would  have  been  hard  for  Pace  to  stand  firm  under  the 
most  favourable  circumstances. 

Maximilian,  with  a  meanness  and  inhumanity  almost 
incredible,  took  advantage  of  Pace's  helpless  condition,  to 
extort  from  him  a  large  sum  of  money  upon  the  threat,  if 
Pace  refused,  to  make  terms  with  France,  and  write  over  to 
England  that  Pace  had  been  the  cause  of  his  defection.     The 

'  II.  1982.  2  II.  1817. 


1516.]        THE   EMPEROR   EXTORTS   MONEY  FROM  PACE.  133 

soul  of  the  Holy  Eoman  Empire  certainly  dwelt  in  a  low  place 
when  the  Emperor  could  condescend  to  such  an  act ;  and  we 
should  have  been  fairly  entitled  to  disbelieve  the  statement 
had  it  rested  on  less  impeachable  authority  than  Pace's  own. 
Here  is  the  letter  which  he  wrote  to  Wolsey,  sick  in  bed  and 
sad  at  heart  for  his  dishonourable  treatment : — ^ 

"  Please  it  your  Grace, — This  day  the  Emperor,  having  the  consense 
of  Sir  Robert  Wingtiekl  that  Mr.  Leonard  Friscobalde,  this  present 
bearer,  should  lend  unto  his  Majesty  G0,000  florins  for  the  continuance  of 
this  enterprise  against  the  Frenchmen,  made  also  great  instance  iinto  me 
to  consent  unto  the  same— both,  in  the  king's  name,  as  his  ambassadors. 
I,  considering  the  great  sum  of  money  expende[d]  already  without  the 
obtent  of  the  king's  purpose,  showed  that  I  had  neither  commission  so  to 
do,  nor  authority  ;  the  Swiss,  a2nid  quos  erat  autoritas  mea,  being  departed 
out  of  the  field.  After  that  he  had  understood  this  mine  answer,  he  said 
that  he  was  sure  that  the  king's  grace  would  not  for  that  sum  of  money 
suffer  him  to  lose  both  his  honour  and  cities  in  Italy,  as  Brixia  and 
Verona  ;  and  sent  also  word  unto  me,  lying  sick  in  my  bed,  that,  if  I 
would  not  consent  thereunto,  he  would  write  inito  the  king's  Highness, 
that  I  alone  had  been  the  total  ruin  of  this  enterprise,  having  no  manner 
of  respect  to  his  honour  or  the  king's,  and  therefore  he  should  be  com- 
pelled to  make  peace  with  France  to  the  destruction  of  all  Christendom. 
I,  hearing  and  noting  diligently  these  his  words,  and  considering  what 
gi"eat  inconvenients  might  ensue  if  he  should  do  as  he  said,  caused  myself, 
sick  as  I  am,  to  be  borne  unto  him,  and  shewed  the  causes,  afore 
rehearsed,  why  I  durst  not  consent  unto  his  desire  ;  adding  also  this 
(without  fear),  that  whensoever  any  sum  of  money  did  come  into  his 
servants'  hands,  it  was  robbed  from  him  and  unthriftily  expende[d]  and 
little  or  nothing  distribut[ed]  amongst  the  army.  Nevertheless,  [I] 
showed  unto  his  Majesty  that  I  had  liever  lose  my  life  than  ever  he 
should  have  cavise  to  make  any  peace  with  France,  to  the  destruction  of 
all  Christendom,  for  any  my  default.  And  so  I  have  c(msented  unto  the 
same,  and  desired  this  bearer  to  accomplish  his  desire,  who,  for  your 
Grace's  sake,  hath  so  done  gladly.  Wherefore  I  can  no  less  do  but 
desire  your  Grace  to  see  him  rejiaid  again  shortly  without  loss  ;  for 
surely  he  is  [a]  faithful  servant  to  the  king's  Highness  and  your  Grace. 
He  hath  an  obligation  of  the  Emperor's,  binding  him  to  repay  the  money, 
if  the  king's  grace  be  not  content  so  to  do  ;  sed  Ccesar  solvit  ad  cahndas 
GrcEcas. 

"  The  said  Emperor  intendeth  to  send  again  into  England  Mr. 
Hesdynge.  I  know  no  cause  why,  but  for  money.  Your  Grace  must  be 
well  ware  of  him  ;  for  in  this  last  sum  conveyed  by  him  he  hatli  not  dealt 
faithfully  with  the  king  ;  for  he  hath  ke])t  1,000  and  200  scudi  for  liiinself, 
and  paid  against  the  merchants'  will  (no  cause  known  why)  11,000  scudi, 
with  more,  as  this  bearer  can  declare  at  large  unto  your  Grace.  He  is 
one  of  those  that  is  miscontented  with  me,  because  I  can  never  consent 
that  tlie  King's  money  be  cast  away  at  every  unthrift's  desire,  asking  in 
the  Emperor's  name,  but  would  have  it,  according  to  the  King's  mind 
and  your  Grace's  commandment,  expende[d]  faithfully  amongst  tlie  poor 
soldiers,  putting  hourly  their  lives  in  jeopai'dy  pro  conmmni  iitriiii«jne 
pri.wA'pis  hmorc.  et  totti(.s  (Jhn'sfiani  orhis  hovo.  It  shall  please  your  Gi-aco 
alway  to  remember  this — (whatsoever  Mr.  Hesdynge  sliall  procure  in 
England), — that  all  money  put  in  the  Emjieror's  hands,  or  committed  to 
any  of  his,  shall  be,  in  great  part  thereof,  evil  expende[d],  as  this  present 

'  II.  189G. 


134  THE   KEIGN   OF  HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

bearer  can  at  large  show  unto  the  same,  and  declare  what  business  and 
trouble  I  have  only  in  resisting  against  this. 

****** 
"Ex  Tridento,  xvj.  Maij. 

"  E.  D.  V  R">"'  fidelissimus  S'"% 

"  Ri.  Pacexjs,  segrotus." 

Sir  Robert,  a  man  of  fastidious  honour  and  delicacy,  made 
no  remonstrances.  In  the  stress  of  the  times  he  was  guilty 
of  acts  which  even  the  sternest  necessity  could  barely  excuse. 
Attending  on  Maximilian,  and  separated  from  Pace,  with 
whom  he  had  a  joint  commission,  he  ventured  to  sign  receipts 
for  money  in  Pace's  hand  ;  "having  feigned  Pace's  signature, 
and  sealed  in  his  name  with  a  cornelian  in  figure  of  a  head."  ^ 
That  was  bad  enough  ;  but  worse  remains.  Wingfield  found, 
in  a  budget  from  Wolsey,  a  private  letter  addressed  to  Pace. 
Sir  Piobert  broke  it  open.  "It  is  one  of  the  first  (he  says) 
I  ever  opened  without  consent  of  the  party;"  and  in  it  he 
found  expressions  ajpplied  to  himself  far  from  complimentary ; 
as,  Suminer-shall-he-Green.  A  man  of  more  worldly  wisdom 
than  Sir  Piobert  would  have  resealed  the  letter,  and  kept  his 
own  counsel.  But  Sir  Eobert  could  not  digest  his  resentment. 
He  wrote  to  Wolsey:  "Where  in  the  part  by  which  he 
toucheth  me  he  calleth  me  Green-Summer,  verily  my  good 
Lord,^  it  is  long  sith  that  I  have  had  to  write  to  such  as  I 
was  familiar  with,  that  Summer  ivas  Green.''  In  the  irritation 
of  the  moment  he  could  not  help  comparing  his  own  merits 
with  the  errors  of  Pace,  which,  but  for  his  interference,  he 
insisted,  would  have  produced  the  greatest  mischief. 

It  was  clear  to  Wolsey  that  in  such  a  temper  of  mind  no 
expedition  could  succeed.  On  Pace,  Galeazzo,  and  Sion  he 
enjoined,  in  terms  not  likely  to  be  disobeyed,  mutual  recon- 
ciliation.^ Of  Wingiield's  extraordinary  conduct  he  took  no 
notice  for  the  present.  When  Sir  Robert  wrote  in  the  highest 
terms  *  of  the  Emperor's  retreat,  who  had  "  so  cawtely  "  with- 
drawn himself  from  such  imminent  peril,  when  he  endorsed 
the  Emperor's  plea,  that  unless  money  were  forthcoming  all 
would  be  ruined,  "  et  Gallus  regnabit  ubique,"  ^  Wolsey  made 
no  answer.  Amongst  the  multiplicity  of  his  schemes  to  raise 
money  Maximilian  hit  upon  a  new  project.  He  proposed  to 
make  Henry  Duke  of  Milan,  in  lieu  of  the  rightful  claimant, 
Francis  Sforza,  and  invest  him  afterwards  with  the  Empire. 

>  II.  p.  514.     Pace's   seal   was   a  ^  II.  1983,  1984. 

head  of  Cicero.  ♦  II.  2095. 

2  II.  1775,  Wolsey,  to  whom  the  '  II.  2026. 
letter  was  addressed. 


1516.]  NEW  DEVICES   OF   MAXIMILIAN.  135 

Sir  Piobert,  with  ludicrous  solemnit}^  announced  this  absurd 
proposal  on  the  17th  of  May,  1516.^  That  morning  the 
Emperor  had  sent  for  him,  and,  no  other  person  being  present, 
addressed  him  in  the  following  terms: — "First,  I  desire  yon 
to  make  my  most  hearty  and  affectuous  recommendations 
unto  my  most  dear  and  well-beloved  brother,  the  king  jonr 
master,  which  by  word  doth  call  me  father,  and  I  do  call  him 
son,  which  I  do  take  right  gladly  upon  me,  and  that  by  reason 
of  years ;  for  in  effect  his  bounty,  kindness,  affection,  and 
comfort  hath  been  and  is  so  medicinable  to  me,  that  he  is  to 
be  esteemed  and  taken  for  my  father,  and  I  for  his  son,  inso- 
much that  he  shall  be  sure  to  have  me  at  all  times  and  in  all 
points  that  may  be  in  my  power,  as  glad  and  desirous  to 
advance  all  that  may  be  to  his  honour  and  laud,  as  though 
I  were  his  proper  son."  After  this  magniloquent  preamble 
the  Emperor  proceeded  to  state  that  his  army  was  ready  to 
take  the  field.  He  then  offered  to  invest  the  King  with  the 
Duchy  of  Milan,  desiring  the  King  to  break  war  with  France 
as  soon  as  possible ;  to  cross  the  sea  with  2,000  horse  and 
4,000  archers  ;  make  his  way  through  Flanders  to  Treves, 
where  the  Emperor  would  not  fail  to  meet  him,  attended  by 
the  Electors  and  Princes,  Then  leaving  the  Duke  of  Suffolk 
in  command,  the  Emperor,  acting  "  as  superintendent,"  would 
jjroceed  with  the  King  to  Eome,  and  see  the  imperial  crown 
placed  upon  his  head. 

Unfortunately,  this  intelligence,  entrusted  exclusively  to 
Wingfield  with  such  an  air  of  mystery,  had  been  discussed 
and  talked  about  some  days  before,  and  had  been  already 
communicated  by  Pace  to  Wolsey.^  To  dissuade  him  from 
countenancing  such  an  absurdity  was  scarcely  needful. 
"  Whilst  we  looked  for  the  crown  imperial,"  says  Pace,''  "  we 
might  lose  the  crown  of  England,  which  is  this  day  more 
esteemed  than  the  Emperor's  crown  and  all  his  empire."  It 
was  a  chimera ;  a  stale  trick  invented  by  Maximilian  to  raise 
money,  for  he  would  "  hke  to  pill  and  poll  the  said  duchy, 
and  all  Italy,  under  pretence  of  keeping  them  till  the  king 
came."  ^     But  it  was  no  part  of  Wolsey's  policy  to  undeceive 

•  II.  1902.  Grace  by  the  Emperor's  command- 
«  12th  of  May.  II.  1878.  ment,  upon  tlie  re.si},niation  of  tlm 
»  11.  1923.                                                    diKiiity  iuiiK'rial  to  bo  made  by  him 

*  See  also  1931.  This  is  the  text  unto  tlie  kinf,''s  HiKhnesH,  and  the 
of  Pace's  letter:  said    Emperor's    mind    in    the    way 

"  Please  it  your  Grace,— Sir  Kobert  which  the  kiuK's  Grace  should  take 
Winprfield  hath  showed  unto  me  one  in  coming  to  accept  the  said  resigna- 
letter  of  his,  wxitten  unto  the  King's       tion,  accompanied  witli  4,0()0  archers 


136 


THE  REIGN  OF   HENEY  VIII. 


[A.D. 


the  Emperor  or  Wingfield.  They  were  left  to  pursue,  un- 
molested, their  own  devices.  The  Emperor's  schemes,  what- 
ever his  intentions  might  be,  worked  out  the  purposes  of 
Wolsey's  equally  well  and  equally  economically.  That  policy 
was  to  keep  Francis  I.  in  continual  agitation,  and  prevent  any 
avowed  union  between  him  and  the  Emperor.  The  reason  of 
this  will  appear  hereafter.  So  when  Pace  expressed  the 
bitterest  regret  at  the  Emperor's  misconduct  and  the  failure 
of  the  expedition,  Wolsey  wrote  him  a  letter  of  encouragement. 
He  thanked  Pace  for  his  labours :  ^ — told  him  if  the  Swiss 
could  not  invade  France  this  year,  so  much  the  better ;  as  the 
King  would  not  be  ready  before  the  spring.  Pace  must  apply 
himself  with  renewed  vigour  to  repair  past  errors  ;  to  encourage 
the  Swiss,  and  tell  the  Emperor  that  the  King  was  in  good 
hope  he  would  make  use  of  the  first  opportunity,  and,  like  a 
valiant  captain,  proceed  against  his  enemies  who  had  defamed 
him  in  all  countries.  A  sum  of  48,000  florins  was  placed  at 
Pace's  disposal  to  engage  the  Swiss,  but  no  part  of  it  was  to 


and  2,000  horse,  and  so  to  proceed 
forward  imto  Home,  there  for  to 
be  crowned  Emperor.  My  lord,  this 
offer  made  by  the  Emperor  is  great, 
but  I  do  marvel  that  the  Emperor,  or 
any  other  man,  would  move  the  king's 
Highness  for  to  come  through  Flanders 
and  Almain  with  such  a  company ;  for 
his  Grace  might  be  destroyed  only  by 
thieves  and  villains,  of  whom  in 
Almain  is  great  plenty.  Over  this, 
the  Emperor  hath  made  a  promise 
uncertain,  nothing  knowing  of  the 
mind  of  the  Electors  of  the  Empire, 
which  by  all  likelihood  will  never 
consent  thereunto,  because  they  will 
laot  suffer  that  dignity  to  go  oat  of 
their  nation ;  part  for  that  they  will 
not  consent  to  anything  moved  by  the 
said  Emperor,  being  dissentient  from 
him  in  everything.  If  this  should 
fortune,  the  king's  Grace  should  get 
by  this  promise  nothing  but  shame, 
and  put  his  person  in  jeopardy. 
Fm'thermore,  I  cannot  judge  it  good 
counsel  for  to  move  the  king's  Grace 
to  be  so  long  absent  out  of  his  realm  ; 
for  such  misorder  therein  might  fall, 
that  whilst  we  looked  for  the  crown 
imperial  we  might  lose  the  crown  of 
England,  which  this  day  is  more 
esteemed  than  the  Emperor's  crown 
and  all  his  empire,  et  non  iiamerito. 
Finally,  this  resignation  of  the  dignity 
impei-ial,  and  the  way  imagined  for  to 
set  it,  is  but  a  castle  made  in  the  air, 


and  a  vain  thing,  and  peradventure 
an  inventive  for  to  pluck  money  from 
the  king  craftily." 

The  rest  of  the  letter  is  occupied 
with  exposing  the  injustice  of  the 
Emperor  in  thus  endeavouring  to 
supplant  Francis  Sforza,  the  rightful 
duke  of  Milan.  If  this  proposal  were 
adopted,  Pace  insists  the  Emperor 
"  would  occupy  the  said  duchy  him- 
self, under  this  pretext,  to  give  it 
unto  the  king's  Grace,  and  there  to 
tarry  unto  such  time  that  his  Grace 
should  come  and  fett  (fetch)  the  in- 
vestiture thereof,  which,  with  surety, 
is  impossible  to  do ;  and  he  in  the 
mean  while,  by  the  king's  aid,  would 
pele  and  poll  the  said  duchy  and  all 
Italy,  and  deprive  the  poor  duke  of 
Bari  of  his  right :  which  appeareth 
and  is  evidently  declared  by  privileges 
granted  by  the  said  Emperor  in  forma 
autentica,  sealed  with  his  great  seal 
and  subscribed  with  his  own  hand, 
and  be  so  substantially  made,  that  by 
no  manner  of  reason  or  justice  they 
can  be  annulled  or  revoked;  et  non 
solum  lefjitiniisfiliis,  sed  etiam  natural, 
ibus  et  spiiriis  ducis  Lodovici,  patris 
ducis  Bari,  ducatmn  Mediolani  con- 
cedunt.  Wherefore  necessary  it  is  that 
the  first  order  taken  in  the  said  Duke 
of  Bari's  cause  be  observed,  both  for 
the  King's  honour  and  profit,"  etc. 
"  Trideuti,  21  Maij." 

•  II.  1965. 


1516.]  WOLSEY  HUMOURS   THE   EMPEEOE.  137 

be  expended  before  be  bad  ascertained  tbat  the  Swiss  bad  a  real 
intention  to  figbt,  not  merely  make  a  sbow  of  battle  and  retm*n.^ 
It  was  enougb  for  Maximilian  to  know  that  50,000  florins 
were  again  in  Pace's  bands  to  prevent  bim  from  making  any 
immediate  arrangement  witb  France.  Tbat  could  be  done  at 
any  time,  when  further  exj^ectations  from  England  were  at  an 
end.  Once  already  be  bad  intimidated  Pace,  without  ex- 
periencing any  unpleasant  consequences.  On  the  lOtb  of 
June,"^  t-.ree  days  after  the  money  arrived,  be  sent  bis  treasurer 
Yillinger  and  the  Marquis  of  Brandenburg  to  demand  provision 
for  5,000  lance-knights  and  2,000  horse  in  Lorraine  ;  "  and  to 
induce  me  hereunto  (writes  Pace  to  Wolsey)  they  said,  if  it 
were  not  done,  the  said  army  would  run  to  the  French  king's 
wages  ;  which  saying  is  common  amongst  them  when  they 
intend  to  deceive  a  man  in  plucking  his  money."  Pace 
replied,  he  bad  no  commission  to  meddle  with  money ;  and 
"if  the  Emperor  wanted  anything  with  England,  he  bad  bis 
ambassador  there."  This  answer  must  have  been  reported 
witb  unusual  celerity,^  for  the  same  day  Maximilian  wrote  to 
Pace  that  he  bad  ordered  a  levy  of  10,000  men  in  the  Tyrol, 
in  doing  which  be  bad  spent  all  bis  money,  and  be  therefore 
requested  Pace  to  transmit  to  Trent  and  Verona  the  50,000 
florins  be  bad  just  received,  otherwise  the  new  Swiss  levies 
would  go  over  to  the  enemy.  If  Pace,  as  he  alleged,  was  for- 
bidden "  to  meddle  with  these  matters  until  further  orders," 
Maximilian  would  undertake  to  excuse  him  to  bis  master. 
Next  day  came  a  civil  letter  from  Villinger,  desiring  Pace  to 
communicate  to  bim  the  answer  be  intended  for  the  Emperor, 
and  to  be  with  the  Emperor  on  the  morrow.^  Pace  replied 
the  next  day  (14tb  of  June)  that  the  50,000  florins  had  been 
recalled,  and  he  was  going  to  Constance.  A  week  passed, 
and  no  change ;  Maximilian  fretted  and  chafed  : — as  well 
might  the  angry  sea  soften  the  obdurate  rocks.  So,  finding 
Pace  inflexible,  in  a  moment  of  irritation  be  ordered  bim  to 
leave  the  imperial  domains,  taxing  bim  wdth  having  procured 
the  revocation  of  the  money  out  of  spite.^  Forgetful  alike  of 
his  interest  and  bis  dignity,  be  threatened  Pace  with  bis 
heaviest  resentment  if  be  were  found  loitering  in  bis  dominions, 
in  any  one  place,  more  than  two  days.  Pace  prepared  to 
depart,  greatly  to  the  discomfort  of  the  Emperor's  messengers. 
It  was  not  his  departure  but  bis  money  tbat  they  wanted. 


'  ir.  1912. 

*  II.  20.34. 

'  II.  2035. 

*  II.  2043, 

See  Pace's  note  to  this  letter. 

•  II.  2070, 

138  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

They  heard  his  resolution,  to  follow  the  Emperor's  mandate, 
with  dismay.  The  Emperor's  command  should  be  obeyed ;  ^ 
though,  to  say  the  least,  it  was  a  harsh  one,  especially  in  the 
last  clause  of  it,  to  be  addressed  to  an  ambassador  of  the  King 
of  England.  Seeing  him  in  earnest,  the  imperial  messengers 
said  the  whole  matter  might  be  compromised,  if  Pace  would 
lend  the  Emperor  only  20,000  florins  in  the  King  his  master's 
name.  Pace  answered,  that  their  proposal  came  unfortunately 
too  late  ;  for  if  after  a  command  to  depart  he  should  now 
remain  and  pay  such  a  sum,  it  would  be  a  great  rebuke  to  the 
Emperor,  and  would  show  that  he  was  dismissed  for  no  fault 
of  his  own,  but  because  he  had  declined  to  pay  "  what  was 
not  in  his  power  to  pa}^" 

At  this  juncture  a  new  actor  appeared  upon  the  stage, — 
M.  Hesdin,  maitre  d'hotel  to  Margaret  of  Savoy,  who  had 
always  professed  a  deep  interest  in  the  King  of  England,  and 
was  supposed  to  hate  the  ministers  of  Charles  for  their  in- 
clination to  Erance.  He  assailed  Pace  with  softer  arguments, 
and  words 

"  Sweet  as  honey  from  his  lips  distilled." 

He  lamented  the  Emperor's  hasty  command ; — was  sure  he 
could  induce  the  Emperor  to  revoke  it ; — foresaw  in  this  mis- 
understanding the  unhappiness  of  Christendom,  and  entreated 
Pace  to  stay.  But  wisely  he  said  nothing  that  day  of  the 
20,000  florins.  Next  day,  when  his  arguments  might  be 
supposed  to  have  produced  the  desired  effect,  Hesdin  pressed 
upon  Pace  the  desirableness  of  complying  with  the  Emperor's 
demand.  Firm  to  his  purpose,  Pace  would  not  depart  from 
his  resolution  for  friend  or  foe,  for  threats  or  cajolery.  And 
doubtless  many  an  hour  afterwards,  when  Pace  had  returned 
as  secretary  to  Henry  VIIL,  and  his  influence  with  the  King 
was  second  only  to  Wolsey's,  the  history  of  this  adventure 
with  the  Emperor,  and  the  various  devices  put  in  force  by 
him  for  obtaining  the  money,  formed  an  amusing  topic  of 
conversation. 

Yet,  mean  and  ludicrous  as  Maximilian's  perplexities 
appear  in  the  recital.  Englishmen,  in  spite  of  themselves,  and 
in  spite  of  his  real  demerits,  could  not  help  feeling  pity  for 
the  dilapidated  Emperor.  No  money  could  pass  his  hands 
without  diminution  in  the  passage  ;  no  bond  he  gave  was 
worth  the  paper  on  which  it  was  written ;  no  promise  he  made 
could  be  relied  on ;  and  yet  he  was  popular,  not  with  his  own 

»  II.  2076. 


1516]    PACE   THREATENED  AND   CAJOLED   FOR   MONEY.        139 

subjects  only,  but  with  strangers.  His  schemes  to  raise  funds 
were  so  awkward  and  so  palpable  they  deceived  no  one ;  his 
necessities  so  urgent  they  almost  excused  his  artifices.  Then, 
moreover,  the  empire  had  not  yet  been  divested  of  its  old 
traditions  and  the  accumulated  honours  of  many  centuries. 
To  see  its  last  representative  reduced  to  beggary,  ready  to 
pawn  "his  dukedom  for  a  denier,"  and  unable  to  purchase 
a  dinner, — was  a  sight  to  stir  noble  and  generous  minds.  It 
did  so  on  this  occasion.  Pace,  Wolsey,  Tuustal,  the  King 
himself  relented,  rather  than  press  too  hardly  on  the  chief  of 
Christendom,  whose  awkward  attempts  at  finesse  generally 
ended  in  his  own  discomfiture,  and  brought  more  tears  in  his 
own  eyes  than  smiles  in  other  men's. 

The  Emperor's  demands  fell  with  his  hopes.  Instead  of 
48,000  florins,  let  Pace  pay  the  2,588  he  had  received  from 
the  Frescobaldi,  and  depart  in  peace. ^  No,  not  even  that 
sum  ;  it  had  been  spent  already  on  the  King's  affairs ;  and  he 
ordered  Pace  out  of  the  chamber.  "  Pace,"  he  exclaimed  to 
Wingfield  in  the  bitterness  of  his  disappointment,  "  by  the 
council  of  his  schoolmaster  Galeaz  has  endangered  the 
common  enterprise.  All  things  were  in  good  train,  and 
nothing  was  wanting  but  the  entertainment  of  the  said  5,000 
Swiss,  which  he  had  desired  of  Pace  as  he  would  have  desired 
God."  Such  insolence  was  intolerable.  He  fell  to  downright 
abuse,  and  expressed  to  Wingfield  his  wonder  that  the  King 
should  commit  so  important  a  charge  "  to  such  a  proterve  and 
dissimuling  person  as  Pace ;  for  whatsoever  he  saitli  now, 
within  an  hour  he  turneth  it  off  another,  or  rather  into  twenty 
divers  fashions.  But  he  hath  gone  to  school  witli  that  bald 
Gallias,  which  betrayed  and  sold  his  master  that  brought  him 
up ;  and  therefore  it  is  a  less  marvel  that  he  with  his  disciple 
would  have  served  me  of  the  same."  But  all  this  fury  was  in 
vain.  If  he  ordered  Pace  to  go.  Pace  prepared  to  start ;  the 
next  five  minutes  he  countermanded  the  order,  and  Pace 
stayed.  If  he  ordered  Pace  out  of  his  presence,  out  of  his 
presence  Pace  went.  If  he  stormed  and  raved.  Pace  remained 
silent ;  if  he  cajoled  or  intimidated,  he  was  no  nearer  the 
object :  absolutely  Pace  would  not  depart  from  his  instruc- 
tions ;  not  a  florin  would  he  disburse  without  an  order  from 
England.  Four  days  after,'^  Wingfield  made  suit,  beseeching 
Pace  to  procure  500  florins  for  the  Emperor  to  buy  powder 
and  ball ;  but  Pace  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  all  entreaties. 

»  II.  2104.  ^  July  1,  151G.  II.  2133. 


140  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [AD. 

The  firmness  and  moderation  of  Pace,  thus  standing  alone 
— not  aided,  as  he  ought  to  have  been,  but  rather  opposed,  by 
his  countryman  Wingfield, — preserving  the  dignity  of  his 
demeanour  in  the  midst  of  so  many  difficulties, — was  duly 
appreciated  in  England.  He  received  the  thanks  of  the  King 
and  the  Cardinal,  with  a  more  substantial  mark  of  favour  in 
his  appointment  as  Secretary  of  State.  Yet,  much  as  he  had 
reason  to  suspect  and  dislike  the  Emperor,  he  was  not  blinded 
by  the  treatment  he  had  received  to  the  policy  of  keeping 
him  on  good  terms.  He  wrote  to  Wolsey,^  that  he  had  been 
threatened  with  death  for  refusing  to  advance  money ;  "  but," 
he  added  with  wonderful  prudence  and  self-control,  "  this 
demeanour  must  be  clean  set  apart  (not  considered),  and  the 
Emperor,  quaUscumque  est,  be  entertained.  The  king  does 
right  to  assist  him;  "  sed  Ccesar  est  puer  indigens  tutofe,  et 
consiliarios  habet  corrvptissimos  et  omtmnn  honorum  dovmii  sui 
expilatores."  He  urged  that  the  king,  instead  of  repudiating 
the  bond  of  60,000  florins  extorted  by  Maximilian,  should 
rather  pay  it,  and  help  "the  poor  marcheante,"  who  had 
thought  to  do  an  acceptable  service  to  the  king,  "  and  did 
that  is  done  at  such  a  time  as  the  Emperor  {quod  mirabile 
dictu  est)  had  not  sufficient  money  to  pay  for  his  dinner." 

Sir  Robert  blundered  on,  as  honest,  well-meaning,  con- 
ceited mediocrity  is  apt  to  do.  Fully  convinced  of  his  own 
superior  merits,  and  believing  that  he  stood  as  high  in  the 
favour  and  confidence  of  his  royal  master  at  home  as  he  did 
in  that  of  his  Imperial  Majesty  abroad,  he  ventured  with 
more  freedom  than  discretion  to  arraign  Pace's  conduct,  and 
still  more  his  appointment  as  Secretary  of  State.  Impressed 
with  the  notion  of  his  own  superior  ability  and  experience,  he 
had  broadly  insinuated  that  Pace  was  deficient  in  those 
qualities  which  were  indispensable  for  his  new  position.  From 
Pace  he  had  evidently  glanced  at  the  Cardinal.^ 

With  a  confidence  and  indiscretion  displaying  a  total 
blindness  to  the  real  state  of  the  times,  he  addressed  a  letter 
to  the  King.^  It  appears  that  in  the  interval  the  Emperor 
had  gone  to  Constance  in  the  firm  persuasion  that  Pace  would 
be  induced  to  relent.  High  words  had  passed  between  them, 
as  already  described,  and  the  dispute  was  evidently  approach- 
ing its  climax.  Wingfield  was  sent  for.  After  riding  all 
night,  he  arrived  at  Constance  (as  he  reports)  about  8  in  the 
morning  ;  "  and  soon  after  mine  arrival,  Master  Hans  Eeyner 

»  II.  2152.  «  II.  2154.  '  II.  2095. 


1516.]  WIXGFIELD'S   GRAVE   INDISCRETIONS.  141 

came  to  me  from  bis  Majesty,  and  showed  me  a  long  process, 
accusing  Master  Pace  in  divers  things,  and  most  specially 
that  his  Majesty  should  be  perfectly  informed,  that  the  said 
Master  Pace  and  the  Visconte  Galias  have  written  such  letters 
to  your  Highness  and  to  my  lord  Cardinal  of  York,  against 
him,  that  by  the  mean  he  findeth  j-our  Grace  all  alienate ; 
which  his  Majesty  esteemeth  to  be  the  more  certain,  because 
that  now  of  late  he  hath  desired  of  Master  Pace  to  make  pro- 
vision for  the  payment  of  a  month's  wages  to  such  Swisses  as 
were  now  in  the  common  army,  and  he  hath  refused  so  to  do  : 
with  which  refuse,  the  said  Mr.  Hans  showed  me  that  the 
Emperor  was  grieved  marvellously;  for  he  was  informed  that 
the  said  Master  Pace  had  sufficient  provision  of  money  with 
him,  by  exchange  of  the  Fuggers,  and  also  that  the  said 
Master  Pace  had  showed  unto  his  Majesty  his  own  self  that 
he  hath  commission  not  only  to  wage  15,000  Swisses  of  new, 
but  also  authority  to  give  them  three  score  thousand  florins  in 
reward."  Mr.  Hans  further  assured  Wingfield,  that  the 
Emperor  was  convinced  this  "was  none  other  but  covert 
treason  wrought  to  his  ruin,  and  the  wasteful  effusion  of  your 
treasure."  Happily,  the  impending  ruin  was  averted  by 
Wingfield' s  providential  arrival — so  Wingfield  writes — for  the 
Emperor  would  have  charged  Master  Pace  to  have  departed 
out  of  all  places  of  his  jurisdiction,  without  sojourning  in  any 
place  of  the  same  above  a  night  and  a  day,  upon  pain  of  his 
life  ;  and  now  that  I  was  come  the  Emperor  had  sent  him 
unto  me  to  declare  the  same." 

In  his  vainglorious  dream  Wingfield  received  from  the 
King  a  letter  for  the  Emperor.^  It  was  the  first  the  King  had 
"written  to  Maximilian  since  his  ignoble  retreat  from  ]\lilan. 
With  it  came  another  for  Wingfield  himself,  the  contents  of 
which  he  was  commissioned  to  communicate.  To  his  Imperial 
Majesty,  calm  and  reserved  in  tone,  it  was  far  from  com- 
plimentary. The  King  took  occasion  to  thank  him  for  his 
offer  of  the  Dukedom  of  Milan,  but  as  the  French  were  still  in 
possession  of  it,  he  thought  it  would  be  time  enough  to  accept 
the  Emperor's  "  loving  offers  "  when  he  had  renewed  the 
expedition,  and,  by  chastising  the  French,  had  re-established 
his  honour,  "  greatly  hindered  by  his  desisting  from  the  fore- 
said enterprise,  whereof  the  Frenchmen,  as  well  in  France  as 
elsewhere,  made  dishonourable  bruits  right  displcasant  to  us 
to  hear  or  understand."     Ho  touched  upon  the  rumour  of  the 

'  II.  2176.     It  should  have  been  placed  uuder  the  11th  of  June. 


142  THE   REIGN  OF   HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

Duke  of  Savoy's  efforts  to  negociate  an  arrangement  between 
France  and  Maximilian ;  expressed  bis  conviction  tbat  tbere 
could  be  no  trutb  in  a  report  so  disgraceful  to  tbe  Emperor ; 
wbo  must  bave  too  mucb  regard  to  bis  own  cbaracter,  and 
tbe  welfare  of  Cbristendom,  to  entertain  sucb  a  proposal. 
And  as  for  any  furtber  assistance  in  tbe  sbape  of  money,  tbe 
King  considered  tbe  sums  already  advanced  by  bim  bad  been 
employed  solely  in  succouring  tbe  imperial  towns  of  Brescia 
and  Yerona,  to  tbe  neglect  of  tbeir  common  interests,  and 
wondered  tbat  Wingfield  bad  ventured,  on  bis  own  resjDon- 
sibility,  to  advance  tbe  Emperor  60.000  florins.  Sbould  tbe 
King  be  called  upon  to  repay  it,  Wingfield  would  be  held 
responsible  for  tbe  loss  and  for  any  alienation  it  migbt  cause 
between  bis  Majesty  and  tbe  Emperor.  In  tbe  end  Wingfield 
was  enjoined  to  lay  aside  bis  enmity  to  Pace,  and  act  cordially 
witb  bim  for  tbe  common  good. 

Sir  Eobert  read  tbis  letter  witb  a  rueful  countenance.  He 
bad  done  bis  best  witbin  tbe  last  .few  bours  to  sootbe  tbe  dis- 
consolate Emperor,  and  flatter  bim  witb  bopes  of  a  favourable 
answer  from  England.  Tbe  answer  bad  come  mucb  sooner 
tban  be  bad  anticipated,  and  of  a  tenor  tbe  very  reverse  of 
wbat  be  bad  expected.  How  was  be  to  break  tbe  unwelcome 
news  ?  But  be  bad  no  alternative  :  tbe  Emperor  was  to  leave 
tbe  next  day  early,  and  be  must  act  at  once.  He  sent  bis 
Majesty  word  tbat  be  bad  received  a  credence  from  England, 
and  would  be  glad  to  know  wben  sbould  be  bave  tbe  bonour 
of  presenting  it.  "  Immediately,"  was  tbe  reply.  It  was 
tben  eigbt  o'clock  in  the  evening.  "  Wben  I  was  come  to  bis 
presence,"  says  Wingfield,  "and  every  man  avoided  save  be 
and  I,  I  presented  your  letters  unto  bim,  making  your  most 
hearty  and  affectuous  recommendations,  in  tbe  best  manner 
I  could ;  which  your  letters  when  be  had  opened  and  read,  a' 
looked  a  long  while  upon  the  subscription,  and  be  said  in  tbis 
wise :  '  These  be  letters  of  credence  to  be  declared  by  you  ; 
howbeit  I  do  perceive  right  well  by  tbe  subscription,  without 
hearing  more,  that  tbe  matter  of  your  credence  sballnot  be  so 
pleasant  unto  me  as  I  hoped  and  trusted,  whereby  I  do  know 
right  well  tbat  such  as  I  hoped  to  find  my  perfect  and  assured 
friends  bave  their  ears  more  inclined,  and  give  more  credence 
to  mine  enemies'  words  tban  to  me,  or  those  of  my  friends  ;  but 
I  must  have  patience  in  that,  as  I  bave  had  in  many  other 
things.  Nevertheless,  declare  your  credence,  and  I  shall  give 
you  tbe  hearing,  but  not  with  so  joyful  a  heart  as  I  would." 


1516.]  wixgfield's  uxpleasant  message.  143 

Wingfield  was  greatly  moved.     He  could  not  behold  so 
much  humility  and  so  much  innocence  trampled  upon  by  the 
malice  of  designing  men  without  strong  feelings  of  indigna- 
tion.     He    longed   to    relieve    the   oppressed   and   defy  the 
oppressor.     The  King,  in  his  letter,  had  urged  the  Emperor 
to  recover  his  tarnished  reputation,  but  Wingfield  ventured  to 
qualify  the  asperity  of  his  commission.     The  Emperor  was 
not    so    blamable    as   he   was    reported ;     "for    though   his 
enemies  " — here  Wingfield  glanced  at  Pace — "  would  gladly 
he  were  more  largely  defamed,  yet   amongst   good  and   in- 
different judges,  if  they  wot  well  of  what  mind  and  courage  he 
is,  they  would  rather  marvel  at  his  diligence  and  dexterity." 
Another  article  touching  the  Emperor's  underhand  negocia- 
tions  with  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  Wingfield  took  the  liberty  of 
omitting  entirely  ;    "  because  I  perceived  at  the  beginning  it 
was  not  meet  to  touch  him  nigh  the  quick ;  "  and  as  for  the 
statement  that  the  King's  money  had  been  spent  upon  Brescia 
and  Verona,  "  verily,  my  most  loved  and  dread  sovereign  lord 
and  only  master,"  says  Wingfield  most  pathetically,  "  I  would 
that  such  as  hath  informed  your  Highness  were  in  your  most 
gracious  presence,  and  I  also  ;   and  I  doubt  not  but  he  should 
have  red  cheeks,  and  he  be  not  past  shame,  for  his  unjust 
saying.    For  your  Highness  maybe  sure  that  no  man  knoweth 
more  in  that  matter  than  I,  though  I  write  not  so  much  as 
other  men  do  ;   and  sure  I  am  that,   and  your  Grace  hath 
caused   such   letters  of  the  Cardinal   Sedunensis  to  be  well 
looked  upon  and  examined,  as  I  have  sent  to  your  Highness 
at  divers  times,  which  is  one  [ofj  the  most  virtuous  and  faith- 
ful men  that  ever  I  w#s  acquainted  with,  it  shall  well  appear 
when  and  how  your  money  hath  been  rather  cast  away  than 
well  spent;  except  such  sums  as  hath  comen  to  the  Emperor's 
hands  :  "   and  he  asserts  that  this  war  had  cost  Maximilian 
above  200,009  florins.^ 

When  Wingfield  had  finished,  the  Emperor  "  made  a  long 
pause  after  his  custom,"  and  then  said  :  "  I  cannot  perceive 
by  the  credence  that  ye  have  declared  that  my  brother,  the 
king  your  master,  hath  restored  to  Leonard  Eriscobald  the 
G0,000  florins  that  were  borrowed  of  him,  or  that  he  intendeth 

*  Sir  Robert  of  course  believed  bis  sion    to    spend.      Tlio   author   of    the 

own  assertion;  but  the  difficulty  which  "  History  of  tlie  Leatrne  of  Canibniy  " 

will  occur  to  most  readers,  who  know  pretends  i  hat  Ferdinand, a  little  hcforo 

anything     of     Maximiliiui     and     his  he  died,  h-nt  the  Knipcror  120,000 f,'old 

finances,  will  be  to  account  for  200,000  crowns.   ("  liist.  de  hi  Li<,nic."  11.306.) 

florins  being  in  the  Emperor's  posses-  That  is  oven  more  incredible. 


144  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

to  provide  the  100,000  florins  that  I  desired  him  to  prepare  ; 
but  he  rather  willeth  me  to  prepare  repayments  of  tlie  said 
60,000  florins  to  Friscobald.  Verily  I  esteemed  well  in  the 
beginning  that  your  credence  should  not  be  so  pleasant  to  me 
as  I  trusted  it  should  have  been  ;  but  I  do  perceive  well  that 
all  things  hath  diminished  the  affection  and  love  that  my 
brother  hath  had  to  me,  whereof  I  am  sorry,  and  know  no 
remedy  but  patience ;  and,  as  I  told  you  in  the  beginning,  I 
perceived  the  same  by  the  subscription  of  m.y  brother's  letters; 
for  in  former  letters  he  named  me  brother  and  father,  whereas 
the  name  of  father  is  now  changed  into  cousin ;  wherefore  I 
wish  you  to  be  treasurer  of  this  letter,  for  I  will  not  that  any 
man  should  be  privy  he  is  so  changed  to  me- ward." 

So  meek  a  reply,  no  doubt,  sank  deeply  into  the  heart  of  the 
reporter,  who,  after  a  fling  at  Galeazzo,  then  proceeds  to  notice 
that  part  of  the  King's  letter  which  alluded  to  the  bad  under- 
standing "  betwixt  Master  Pace,  now  your  secretary,  and  me," 
and  the  King's  injunction  "  that  nother  indignation  or  dis- 
pleasure be  taken  against  him  through  Wingfield's  procure- 
ment for  his  j)lain  dealing."  He  expressed  regret  that  the 
King  should  think  him  capable  so  "to  demean  himself  against 
the  said  Master  Pace  or  any  other,  but  as  an  honest  poor 
gentleman  should."  He  asserted  that  he  had  treated  Pace  as 
a  brother,  but  Pace  could  not  bear  to  hear  the  Emperor 
praised,  nor  would  Wingfield  hear  him  dispraised.  Then, 
dilating,  after  his  fashion,  upon  the  confidence  to  be  shown  to 
old  and  experienced  ministers,^  "which  on  my  conceit  (he 
says)  is  a  religion  not  to  be  annulled  for  any  new  sect,"  he 
adds,  "I  know  not  the  foundation;  and  to  say  the  sooth,  though 
I  have  none  envy  that  in  so  little  time  and  for  so-  poor  service, 
he  (Master  Pace)  hath  attained  to  so  high  a  room  as  that  of 
your  principal  secretary ;  yet  in  some  things  me  seemeth  and 
also  know  well  that  he  hath  largely  offended  in  that  art :  for 
the  name  of  secretary  hath  the  foundation  upon  the  knowledge 
of  such  things  as  ought  to  be  kejit  secret ;  in  which  I  know 
well  that  he  hath  greatly  erred ;  for  when  I  made  him  privy 
to  such  secret  things  as  the  Emperor  had  ordained  me  to  write 
unto  your  Highness  to  the  intent  he  might  be  the  more  wary 
how  he  should  order  himself  concerning  the  said  secrets 
betwixt  the  Emperor  and  you,  he  went  forthwith  and  showed 
the  same  to  the  Duke  of  Bari,^  advising  him  that  it  was  the 

'  Here  the  letter  is  mutilated. 

*  Francis  Maria  Sforza,  brother  of  Maximilian  Sforza,  Duke  of  Milan. 


1516.]  WIXGFIELD'S   PKESUMPTION.  145 

Cardinal  Sedunensis'  procurement  and  mine ;  -which  the  said 
duke  would  not  keep  secret,  but  laid  the  same  to  the  said 
Cardinal's  charge :  of  which,  as  I  esteem,  he  (Sion)  hath 
advertized  your  Highness  by  his  letters,  which  are  not  of  such 
levity  as  those  of  Galias,  whose  malice,  fraud,  and  iniquity 
hath  not  onlj^  abused  Master  Pace,  but  hath  caused  Master 
Pace  to  abuse  many  others.  And  in  all  such  abuses  as  I  may 
know  that  your  Highness  taketh  either  loss  or  dishonour, 
there  is  no  power  that  shall  may  only  stop  my  mouth,  but 
only  your  Highness's  commandment.  And  one  thing  I  assure 
your  Grace  of,  that  he  is  known  over  all  at  this  day  so 
perverse  towards  the  Emperor  that,  considering  the  authority 
he  hath,  and  his  notable  remuneration  for  so  small  and  inutil 
service  that  he  hath  done,  it  is  verily  judged  that  your  affection 
towards  the  Emperor  is  now  sore  refrigerate." 

It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  a  letter  so  rash,  indiscreet, 
and  boastful,  so  full  of  unjust  insinuations  against  others — 
for,  be  it  observed,  insinuations  were  made  as  much  against 
Wolsey's  honesty  as  against  Pace— would  be  allowed  to  pass 
without  rebuke.  Sir  Eobert  might  have  gone  on  for  some  time 
longer,  buzzing  about  the  Emperor,  occasionally  starting  into 
harmless  acts  of  impertinence ;  but  on  this  occasion  he  had 
ventured  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  reasonable  indulgence,  and 
his  vagaries  were  becoming  mischievous.  The  following  com- 
munication from  England  brought  him  speedily  to  his  senses. 

Heney  VIII.  to  Sir  Robert  Wingfield.^ 

"  Trusty  and  right  well  beloved  .  .  .  , — It  is  right  well  known  how 
long  the  fraternal  Pove  and  amity],  with  paternal  and  filial  kindness, 
hath  been  rooted,  est[ablished  and]  continued  betwixt  the  Emperor, 
whom  we  have  always  [taken  and]  reputed  as  our  good  father,  and  us.  .  .  . 
For  the  entertainment  [and]  continuance  whereof,  ye  by  our  connnission 
a[nd  authority]  have  had  the  room  and  ofHce  of  a  mediator,  to  the  intent 
that  no  occasion  sounding  to  the  hy[ndering  and]  diminishing  thereof  might 
be  given,  to  enge[nder  any]  scruiile  of  unkindness  or  diffidence  betwixt 
hy[m  and  us].  Howbeit  we  and  our  coinicil,  upon  jirobable  g[rounds 
and]  sundry  vehement  presumptions  and  c<)nject[ures,  perceive  h]()w  that 
by  occasion  of  the  advancement  of  such  money,  as  by  your  means  and 
acquittance  was  by  Leonard  Friscobalde  made  to  the  Emperor,  witliout 
any  authority  or  commission  by  us  to  you  given,  and  tlie  repetition 
thereof  now  demanded,  for  satisfaction  and  reimbursement  thereof  to  the 
creditors,  to  be  contented  and  paid  by  the  said  Emperor,  there  is  some 
hindrance  in  appearance  of  the  mutual  kindness  betwixt  the  said  Emperor 
and  us,  which  should  never  have  chanced  if  this  money  had  not  been 
advanced  to  him  witlumt  our  commission  ;  considering  tliat  as  well  by 
such  our  sundry  gifts  of  large  sums  of  [money]  as  we  have  made  unto 
him,  as  by  the  entertainment  of  the  Swisses  to  our  right  great  cost  and 
charge  [from  their  country]  to  Milan,  for  liis  honour,  and  conservation  of 

'  11.  2177. 

VOL.  I.  ^ 


146  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

his  cities  and  countries  in  those  parts,  he  had  not  only  good  cause  to  give 
unto  us  singular  tha[iiks,  but  also]  rather  thereby  to  augment  than 
diminish  the  amity  rooted  and  established  between  him  and  us.  Whe[re- 
of  we]  thought  right  expedient  to  advertise  you,  to  the  [intent  that,  by] 
all  the  means  and  politic  ways  ye  can,  ye  [exert  your]self,  not  only  to 
entertain  and  firmly  to  establish  [the]  love  and  amity  that  ever  hath  been 
betwixt  him  [and  us],  but  also  to  remove  all  scruples,  sounding  to  [the] 
derogation  thereof,  by  mean  of  the  occasion  and  cause  before  written  ; 
for  in  case  any  alteration  of  the  Emperor's  mind  towards  us  shall  now  be 
apparent,  otherwise  than  it  hath  been  heretofore,  we  cannot  ascribe  ne 
arrect  it  to  any  other  thing  or  deed,  but  only  to  the  advancement  of  the 
said  money,  without  our  commandment,  and  the  repetition  of  the  same 
now  made  ;  whereunto  expedient  it  is  ye  take  substantial  regard  in 
avoiding  the  danger  that  may  thereof  to  you  ensue. 

"  For,  to  be  plain  with  you,  we  now  evidently  perceive,  more  by 
your  own  writings  [than]  by  the  relation  of  any  other,  that  ye,  having 
better  opinion  in  [yourself  than]  your  wisdom  or  qualities  can  attain  to, 
not  only  by  elaticjn  of  a  glorious  mind,  moved  by  the  instigation  of  envy 
and  malice  against  our  secretary,  Mr.  Pace,  have  mo[re  considered]  your 
sensual  appetites  than  regarded  our  commandments,  weal,  profit,  or 
surety  ;  as  it  api^eareth  evidently,  as  we[ll  by]  the  advancement  and 
laying  out  of  our  money  [without]  commandment,  as  in  continual 
practices,  by  you  daily  made  and  driven,  to  put  the  Emperor  in  comfort 
£to  expect]  the  advancement  of  more  money,  to  our  intolerab[le  costs  and] 
charges.  And  whereas  ye  advaunt  yourself  [to  be  a  medi]ator  for  the 
perseverant  continuance  of  paternal  and  [ti]Iial  love  and  amity  betwixt 
the  Emperor  and  us,  your  deeds  be  clearly  repugnant  to  your  words  ;  for 
by  these  your  drifts  inducing  the  Emperor  continually  to  demand  money 
of  us,  and  the  not  accomplishing  of  his  desires,  which  is  importable  for  us 
to  sustain  or  do,  ye  have  not  only  hindered  the  mutual  intelligence 
betwixt  the  said  Emperor  and  us,  but  also  put  him  in  such  jealousy 
against  our  said  secretary,  Mr.  Pace,  by  contrived  surmises  of  seditious 
writing  against  the  Emperor,  that  he  hath  banished  him  his  court  and 
countries  ;  and  rather  than  these  inconvenients  should  ensue  betwixt  the 
Emperor  and  us  by  your  vainglorious  ways,  more  studying  to  get  thanks 
than  regarding  our  honor,  profit,  or  surety,  better  it  were  y[ou  had] 
never  been  born. 

"  When  we  consider  your  undiscreet  writing,  expressing  the  disdainous 
and  envious  mind  that  ye  be  of  the  advancement  and  promotion  of  our 
said  [secretary],  Mr.  Pace,  whom  in  your  said  writing  ye  dispraise  [and] 
slander,  with  the  fantastical  argument  that  ye  make,  to  conclude  our 
affection  to  be  refrigerate  towards  the  Emperor,  by  cause  we  have 
rewarded  our  said  secretary  with  so  notable  a  remuneration  for  so  inutill 
service,  he  being  of  so  perverse  mind  towards  the  Emperor,  and  the 
protestation  and  requisition  [by]  you  made,  that  in  case  his  merits  shall 
fortune  to  lead  him  to  any  inconvenient  or  danger  in  those  parts,  we 
should  not  impute  or  arrect  the  occasion  thereof  to  you  ;  it  causeth  us  and 
our  council  to  think,  that  either  malicious  fumes  hath  blinded  your 
intelligence  so  that  ye  little  regard  what  ye  write,  or  else  ye  supjiose  and 
think  that  we  and  our  council  have  no  cajiacity  to  discern  your  notorious 
folly.  For  as  touching  the  promotion  of  our  said  secretary,  whom  ye 
dispraise,  inasmuch  as  he  hath  better  followed  our  commandments  and 
commissions  than  ye  have  done,  we  think  he  hath  well  deserved  this 
advancement  and  better.  And  though  he  had  never  done  unto  us  any 
service  in  those  parts,  yet  in  consideration  of  his  learning,  wisdom,  and 
activeness,  our  mind  was  to  prefer  him  to  that  room  before  his  departing, 
so  that  your  sophistical  argument  before  written  is  a  great  fallacy  and 
folious  invention  [which]  cannot  proceed.  And  well  assured  may  ye  be, 
that  in  case  any  danger  or  inconvenient  shall  chance  unto  him  in  those 


1516.]  WINGFIELD   SEVERELY   CENSUEED.  147 

parts,  we  must  and  will  arrect  it  precisely  to  you,  and  in  such  wise  punish 
you  therefor,  as  all  other  shall  take  terrible  example  thereby.  For  what- 
soever ye  or  any  other  have  surmised  to  the  Emperor  for  Ids  hindrance, 
we  have  now  expressly  declared  to  the  said  Emperor  by  our  letters,  that 
our  said  secretary  never  wrote  anjrthing  unto  us  but  good  and  honourable 
of  him,  as  much  commending  his  valiantness,  wisdom,  and  other  his 
notable  acquitayles,  as  could  be  devised,  making  also  true  and  plain 
certificate  unto  us  of  all  things  occurrant  there  from  time  to  time,  rather 
deser\dng  thereby  the  Emperor's  thanks  than  his  indignation,  which  we 
believe  verily  had  not  fortvmed  to  him  unless  the  Emperor  had  been  by 
your  seditious  re]iorts  provoked  thereunto. 

"  And  as  touching  the  Cardinal  Sedunensis,  whom  ye  much  praise, 
and  the  count  Galeas  by  you  greatly  dispraised,  they  be  personages  to  us 
unknown.  Nevertheless,  for  the  laudable  reports  that  we  have  heard  of 
them,  and  that  they  were  the  persons  most  meet  to  further  and  [promote] 
this  enterprise  of  the  Swisses  against  the  Frenchmen,  we  were  the  rather 
induced  to  practice  with  them,  minding  always  not  only  the  honor  and 
surety  of  the  Emperor,  but  also  the  advancement  of  the  same,  and 
conservation  of  his  estate  in  those  parts.  For  which  purpose  we  have 
laid  o\it  and  expended  right  great  and  large  sums  of  money  ;  and  if  for 
this  our  kindness  we  should  be  finally  rewarded  by  sinister  reports  with 
distrust,  suspicion,  and  displeasure,  we  may  say  our  kindness  hath  been 
evil  employed.  Wherefore  we  will  and  straitly  charge  you  that,  all 
dissemblance  put  apart,  ye  endeavor  yourself  to  entertain  the  amity  and 
intelligence  betwixt  the  Emperor  and  us,  wherein  we  shall  stedfastly 
and  perseverantly  continue  without  alteration  for  our  part  ;  assuring  you 
that  in  case  we  may  perceive  any  alienation  of  his  mind  therein,  we  must 
ascribe  it  unto  you  for  such  causes  and  considerations  as  be  above 
specified,  whereunto  we  will  ye  take  special  regard  in  avoiding  our 
indignation  to  your  uttermost  peril.  And  as  touching  the  request 
heretofore  made  by  the  Emperor  to  our  said  secretary,  for  the  advance- 
ment of  more  money,  inasmuch  as  the  letters  of  exchange  were  revoked, 
it  was  not  possible  to  be  done  ;  wherefore  the  Empei-or  hath  no  cause  of 
displeasure  against  him.  The  reasons  moving  us  to  revoke  our  letters  of 
exchange  were  these  :  First,  because  we  supposed  the  expedition  against 
the  Frenchmen  to  be  clearly  extinct  and  done  by  the  returning  of  the 
Swisses  to  their  countries.  Secondly,  forasmuch  as  the  Emperor  liy  his 
letters  to  us  had  so  effectually  commended  Friscobald  for  his  diligent 
towardness  and  faithful  acquittal,  we  minded  by  the  revocation  thereof  to 
take  the  commission  from  the  Fokers,  and  to  have  caused  the  money  to 
be  paid  by  the  hands  of  Friscobald  and  his  factors  when  the  case  should 
require  ;  and  in  such  wise  we  will  ye  show  to  the  said  Emperor." 


148  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 


CHAPTEE  V. 

THE    TREATY   OF   NOYON. 

In  more  than  one  of  Wingfield's  "vainglorious"  letters  the 
King  had  been  urged  by  the  Emperor — wiiether  in  sincerity  or 
not  remains  to  be  shown — to  assist  him  in  punishing  the 
ministers  of  his  grandson  Charles,  who  had  sided  throughout 
with  the  French.  To  their  machinations  he  imputed  the 
success  of  the  French  arms  and  the  dangers  now  menacing  the 
whole  of  Italy.  In  Wingfield's  fantastic  language,  it  was  they 
who  had  sold  Naples :  ^  "  Blessed  be  those  honorable  coun- 
cillors of  the  young  king  ^  which  have  brewed  the  beverage  to 
the  ruin  of  the  Emperor,  of  which  ruin  the  said  young  king  is 
like  to  be  very  heavy  to  the  damage  of  all  Christendom."  To 
understand  these  allusions  and  how  far  Sir  Eobert  was  justified 
in  his  opinion  of  the  Emperor's  honour  and  integrity,  we  must 
look  back  a  little. 

From  the  first  moment  that  Francis  ascended  the  throne 
Charles  and  his  ministers  had  courted  a  French  alliance  with 
unceasing  assiduity.  In  their  treatment  of  England  they  had 
exhibited  not  only  indifference  but  studied  contempt  and  dis- 
like. The  leaders  of  the  young  Prince's  councils,  Chievres 
and  the  Chancellor  (Sauvage),  prompted  mainly  by  a  desire 
to  retain  their  supremacy,  threw  the  weight  of  their  influence 
into  the  scale  of  France — tempted  also,  if  the  report  be  true, 
by  the  pecuniary  rewards  which  Francis  offered  so  liberally 
for  their  favours.  It  may  be  thought  that  Charles  was  too 
young  to  be  responsible  for  the  acts  of  his  ministers,  and  too 
indifferent  to  the  charms  of  the  Princess  Mary  to  have  con- 
ceived either  grief  or  indignation  at  seeing  her  consigned  to 
the  arms  of  another.  But  all  writers  agree  in  his  precocity ;  not 
a  single  act  in  the  after  period  of  his  life  indicates  the  least 
dissatisfaction  with  these  his  earliest  advisers ;  nor  so  long  as 

*  IT.  1937.  Netherlands,  had  just  become  King  of 

*  Charles,    still    residing    in     the       Simin  by  the  death  of  Ferdinand. 


lolC]       PRINCE   CHAELES   SEEKS   A   FRENCH   ALLIANCE.        149 

they  lived  did  he  ever  withdraw  his  confidence  and  favour  from 
them.  Quite  the  reverse.  As  for  his  alhance  with  Mary, 
Philip  Dalles,  the  envoy  sent  to  congratulate  Francis  on  his 
accession,  has  preserved  the  .following  anecdote  which  seems 
to  indicate  that  the  loss  of  Mary  caused  a  deeper  dissatisfac- 
tion than  has  been  generally  supposed.  On  one  occasion 
Charles  was  told  in  a  company  of  young  people,  that  he  was  a 
cuckold  (coqu),  and  had  lost  his  wife,  and  ought  to  take 
another  :  one  proposed  this  lady,  another  that ;  some  Madame 
Eenee,  others  the  daughter  of  Portugal  or  of  Hungary.  "  I 
(said  Dalles)  replied  that  the  Prince  preferred  Madam  Pienee." 
"He  is  quite  right,"  answered  Charles  promptly,  "she  is 
much  the  best  prize ;  for  if  my  wife  chanced  to  die  before  me 
I  should  then  be  Duke  of  Brittany."  The  mind  which  at  such 
an  age,  and  on  such  an  occasion,  could  travel  to  such  a  con- 
tingency, was  worthy  of  the  discipline  in  which  it  had  been 
trained.  As  I  have  said  in  the  first  chapter  of  this  work, 
there  was  no  careless  betrayal  of  youthful  indiscretion  in 
Charles  whether  as  Archduke,  King,  or  Emperor.  Over  all 
appetites,  but  one,  he  had  perfect  control  from  childhood 
ux)wards. 

In  the  instructions  which  he  gave  to  his  ambassadors  ^ 
announcing  that  he  was  out  of  his  tutelage,  and  condoling  with 
Francis  on  the  death  of  the  late  King  Lewis,  the  same 
decorous  resignation  to  the  will  of  Providence,  the  same  keen 
regard  to  his  own  interests,  may  be  traced,  though  blurred 
wdth  the  formalities  of  a  State  paper.  They  are  directed  to 
inform  the  new  monarch  that  Charles  is  his  own  master  ;  and 
though  great  is  his  grief  at  the  death  of  the  late  King  of 
France,  yet,  remembering  that  all  mankind,  great  and  small, 
are  subject  to  mortality,  and  that  the  "  late  king  was  an 
ancient  man,^  infirm,  and  sickly,  and  that  in  the  concerns  of 
this  life  the  will  of  the  Lord  must  be  done, — all  things  con- 
sidered, the  aforesaid  Charles  feels  himself  mightily  comforted 
by  the  accession  of  the  new  sovereign."  But  the  main  drift 
of  this  mission  was  to  negociate,  in  the  first  place,  a  marriage 
with  Madame  Pvenee,  then  four  years  old ;  and  in  the  next,  to 
excuse  the  alliance  which  had  hitherto  existed  between  England 
and  Flanders,  as  passed  in  the  Archduke's  minority,  and  for 
which  he  ought  not  to  be  held  responsible.  The  terms  he 
demanded  were  so  exorbitant,  the  aim  to  extort  money  from  a 

'  Jan.  19,  1515.     Le  Glay,  Negoc.  "  IIo  wrh   only  in    hia   lilty-lhinl 

i.  2.  year  when  be  died. 


150  THE  EEIGN   OF  HENRY   VHL  [A.D. 

King,  liberal  and  young  like  Francis,  so  apparent,  that  more 
than  once  the  negociation  was  near  coming  to  an  abrupt 
termination.  Even  when  completed  it  was  one  of  the  condi- 
tions insisted  on  by  Charles  that  his  future  Queen,  young  as 
she  was,  should  be  taken  from  her  family,  and  delivered  to  his 
care,  with  a  certain  amount  of  money,  jewels,  and  property 
settled  upon  her,  of  which  he  was  to  become  the  possessor  in 
the  event  of  her  death. 

This  union  with  France  had  more  than  one  advantage  to 
recommend  it : — it  settled  the  disputes  between  the  two 
countries  in  relation  to  the  future  possession  of  Naples ;  it 
gave  peace  to  Flanders,  then  greatly  impoverished;  and  it 
enabled  Charles  and  his  ministers  to  sit  aloof,  unconcerned, 
whilst  the  other  great  powers  of  Europe  proceeded  to  arbitrate 
their  differences  by  the  sword.  Whether,  on  a  broad  view  of 
history,  countries  in  the  long  run  prosper  by  this  policy  of 
non-interference,  is  a  question  not  to  be  determined  here. 
Between  running  like  famished  mastiffs  to  take  part  in  a  street 
brawl,  and  the  armed  interposition  of  reason  and  charity, 
there  is  a  wide  difference.  The  sternest  neutrality  may  be  as 
selfish,  and  as  destructive  of  true  magnanimity,  as  hot  and 
precipitate  anger.  No  nation  ever  became  great  by  either 
course  alone, — certainly  not  at  the  time  of  which  I  am 
speaking. 

It  could  not  be  expected  that  during  the  predominance  of 
such  feelings  and  principles  English  negociations  would  prosper 
in  Flanders.  Attempts  were  made,  but  with  little  success,  to 
renew  the  amity  and  free  commercial  intercourse  between  the 
two  peoples.  The  negociators  were  Tunstal  and  More,  after- 
wards the  celebrated  chancellor,  then  for  the  first  time  com- 
mitted, to  the  great  regret  of  Erasmus,  to  a  life  of  politics 
instead  of  letters.  More  was  mainly  employed,  no  doubt,  for 
his  high  character  and  legal  attainments  ;  he  possessed,  above 
all  men  of  his  age,  the  qualifications  required  for  the  temperate 
and  successful  adjustment  of  disputes  between  the  English  and 
Flemish  merchants,  complicated  by  the  anxiety  of  the  latter 
to  force  English  trade  back  again  to  Bruges,  then  rapidly 
waning  before  the  increasing  popularity  of  Antwerp.^  Unfor- 
tunately we  have  none  of  More's  correspondence  for  this 
period,  when  he  first  gathered  those  impressions  of  the  Low 
Countries  and  of  the  political  state  of  the  times  which  he 
afterwards  produced  in  his  Utopia.      For  our  knowledge  of 

1  TI.  581. 


1516.]  CHARLES   BECOMES   KING   OF   SPAIN.  151 

what  passed,  we  are  mainly  indebted  to  Sir  Thomas  Spinelly, 
whose  gossip  is  amusing  enough,  but  rests  often  on  no  better 
foundation  than  hearsay.     He  was  evidently  not  initiated  into 
the  secrets  of  either  party,  and  was  frequently  imposed  upon 
by  both.      His   English   prejudices  made  him  a   convenient 
instrument  for  Margaret  of  Savoy,  or  the  Emperor  through 
her,   whenever  it  was   desirable    to   draw   off    the    English 
negociators  on  a  false  scent.     Months  elapsed,  but  the  English 
commissioners  could  make  no  impression  on  Charles  or  his 
court  until  the  close  of  1515.     Even  then  it  is  probable  that 
the  desire  of  Chievres  to  obtain  a  loan  from  this  country  was 
a  much  stronger  inducement   to  moderation  than  any  real 
change  of  sentiment.-^ 

The  death  of  Ferdinand  the  Catholic  in  February,  1510, 
threw  the  destinies  of  Europe  into  the  hands  of  three  young 
sovereigns,  nearly  of  the  same  age,  and  for  this  and  other 
reasons  jealous  and  suspicious  of  each  other's  glory  and 
achievements.  This  is  the  date  of  Charles's  emancipation 
from  tutelage.  From  that  time  to  the  death  of  Henry  VIII. 
the  political  history  of  Europe  is  little  more  than  the  combina- 
tions and  intrigues  of  these  monarchs  to  prevent  any  one  of 
their  number  from  rising  to  a  dangerous  superiority.  With 
this  period  commences  the  system  of  modern  political  adjust- 
ments which  continues  to  this  day  to  be  the  basis  of  European 
diplomacy.  By  the  death  of  Ferdinand,  the  relations  between 
Charles  and  Francis  were  altered;  hitherto  he  had  been  a 
vassal  of  France,  and  at  the  first  interview  of  his  envoys  with 
Francis  they  had  been  reminded  of  this  subservience,  in  terms 
not  agreeable  to  the  inferior.  Now  the  vassal  in  the  extent  of 
his  kingdoms  exceeded  his  suzerain  ;  and  in  the  prospect  of  the 
imperial  succession  stood  far  above  him.^  His  interests, 
present  and  future,  brought  Charles  more  directly  and  more 
frequently  into  collision  with  Francis  than  they  could  do  with 
Henry.  Yet  with  this  vast  extent  of  territory,  with  the  old 
and  new  world  tied,  as  it  were  to  his  girdle,  Charles  was  so 
miserably  poor  that  he  could  not  raise  so  mean  a  sum  as 

'   11.  1291.  by  liim  or  any  one.     TIk;  envoy  fired 

2  At  the  interview  of  Dalles  with  up  at  the  insult,  but  did  not  vi'nturo 

Francis,  three  days  after  the  death  of  to  object  to  the  offensive  expression  ; 

Lewis  XII.,  tlx!    former  told  Francis  "  Sire,"  he  said,  "  it  will  bo  your  lault 

that  the    Archduke  was  very  younp,  if  Monsieur  the  Prince  of  Castile  docH 

and  desired  to  live  on  f,'ood  terms  with  not  live  on  as  ^""^1  t"""8  ^'*"  y°"  '^'! 

him.     The  king  said,  in  his  reply,  that  the  king  his  father  did  :  and  1  would 

be  would  be  a  good  friend  to  Charles,  have  you  know,  no   iricnd   or  runstil 

"because  he  is  mon  vassal :"  but  ho  can  do  you  more  jiarni  than  be.       Lo 

would  not  be  managed  or  over-reached  Clay,  Ndyoc.  i.  590. 


152  THE   EEIGN   OF  HENRY   VIIl.  [A.D. 

300,000  crowns  to  take  his  journey  into  Spain.^  The  wealth 
of  Henrj^  his  faeihty  in  parting  with  it,  seemed  to  point  him 
out  as  the  Sovereign  to  whom  Charles  should  ally  himself ; 
hut,  for  reasons  not  well  known — and  which  never  can  be 
thoroughly  known  until  foreign  archives  have  been  thrown 
open  to  examination — no  efforts  of  the  English  ambassadors, 
not  even  the  interests  of  Charles  himself,  could  induce  him  to 
abandon  the  French  alliance,  or  treat  this  country  otherwise 
than  with  haughtiness  and  neglect.  The  successes  of  Francis 
in  Italy,  the  mismanagement  of  the  Emperor,  seemed  only  to 
serve  as  additional  inducements  for  strengthening  the  French 
alliance,  and  imperilling  his  succession  to  Spain  and  the 
Empire.  A  policy  so  suicidal,  and  which,  if  eventually  suc- 
cessful, must  have  ended  in  making  Francis  Emperor  of  the 
West,  can  only  be  attributed  to  the  dread  entertained  by 
Chievres  and  his  fellow-ministers  of  Maximilian  and  Henry. 
Their  alliance  would  have  given  a  deadly  blow  to  that  party 
which  had  hitherto  governed  the  Archduke  exclusively  ;  and, 
rather  than  incur  that  danger,  any  sacrifice  was  to  be  pre- 
ferred. 

The  French,  on  their  side,  watched  these  negociations  with 
their  habitual  keenness.  The  least  indication  of  an  English 
tendency  in  the  court  of  the  King  Catholic,  as  he  was  now 
styled,^  was  instantly  punished  by  some  act  of  aggression  on 
the  part  of  the  Duke  of  Gueldres,  the  hereditary  enemy  of 
Charles,  the  restless  invader  of  his  dominions,  who  needed  no 
instigation  from  France  to  satisfy  his  desire  of  vengeance  or 
aggression.  What  Scotland  was  to  England,  Gueldres  was  to 
Charles ;  and  the  latter  could  not  move  a  step  towards  his 
Spanish  dominions  without  exposing  his  frontier  on  the  side 
of  Gelderland  to  fire  and  sword.  Aware  of  this  perplexitj^ 
and  probably  the  secret  instigators  of  it,  the  French  now 
proposed  a  closer  amity.  A  more  cheerful  face  was  exhibited 
to  England  ;  its  envoys  were  received  with  greater  courtesy  ; 
the  Venetian  ambassador  even  wrote  to  say  that  the  friendship 
of  the  two  courts  looked  ominous,  for  Castile  "  was  quite 
hand-in-glove  with  Henry."  ^  But  their  energies  in  reality 
were  bent  on  a  closer  intimacy  with  France,  in  which  they 
hoped  to  include  the  Emperor,  now  more  than  ever  inclined 
to  listen  to  such  proposals  since  his  inglorious  retreat  from 
the  Italian  expedition. 

Charles  now  became  the  object  of  the  intrigues  of  both 

1  II.  1511.  "  II.  1668.  '  II.  1845. 


1516.]  THE   TREATY   OF   NOYOX.  153 

courts.  On  one  side  England  offered  him  a  loan  of  20,000 
marks  to  bear  bis  cbarges  into  Spain,^  binting  at  tbe  same 
time  tbat  be  sboiild  take  England  on  bis  way,  "  to  avoid  sea- 
sickness, and  keep  clear  of  tbe  Frencli  coast."  Pensions  were 
privately  promised  to  Cbievres  and  tbe  Cbancellor.  Notbing 
could  be  more  plausible  tban  tbe  conduct  of  tbese  ministers  ; 
tbey  professed  tbemselves  "weary  of  tbe  Frencli  and  tbeir 
dissimulation."  An  excuse  was  never  wanting.  Wben  tbey 
were  taxed  witb  submissiveness  to  France ; — it  was  done 
merely  to  prevent  tbe  Frencb  from  bindering  tbe  journey  to 
Spain ;  once  tbere  tbe  King  would  sbow  bimself  in  bis  true 
colours.^  Wbile  tbese  negociations  were  pending,  a  secretary 
of  tbe  Frencb  King,  named  De  Neufville,  bad  arrived  at 
Brussels.  He  was  frequently  closeted  witb  Cbievres,  but  bis 
communications  were  innocent ;  tbey  bad  no  bigber  object 
tban  tbe  discussion  of  some  unsettled  points  relating  to  tbe 
marriage  treaty  of  the  Queen  of  Arragon  ; — tbis,  and  no 
more.^  Tbe  utmost  candour  and  openness  were  exbibited  on 
botb  sides.  True,  tbe  Frencb  bad  offered  anotber  marriage 
alliance  to  Charles  ;  but  tbese  negociations  bad  only  been 
entertained  on  their  part  to  gain  time  till  Charles  should  be 
peaceably  settled  in  bis  new  dominions.  The  journe}'  into 
Spain  was  a  wide  and  convenient  pretext.  If  tbe  English 
desired  to  bind  them  in  a  united  effort  against  tbe  French  in 
Italy,  tbe  expenses  to  be  incurred  and  tbe  charges  against 
Gueldres  prevented  their  contributing  to  so  worthy  an  object."* 
Were  tbey  taxed  witb  playing  a  double  game  ?  They  must 
keep  on  good  terms  with  France,  and  condescend  apparently 
to  its  demands,  or  have  France  for  their  enemy,  and  tbeir 
master's  voyage  prevented.^  On  tbe  13th  of  July  came  another 
great  personage  from  Paris,  tbe  Grand  Master  of  France. 
Tunstal  urged  Cbievres  and  tbe  cbancellor  to  beware  of  Frencb 
practices  and  take  heed  of  a  Frencb  marriage.^  Suddenly 
Charles,  like  bis  grandfather  Maximilian,  was  taken  with  a 
passion  for  bunting ;  be  was  not  to  be  seen.'  Tbe  Emperor 
about  tbe  same  time  had  become  invisible,  even  to  his  faithful 
admirer  Sir  Piobert.^  Why  pursue  the  progress  of  dissimu- 
lation any  further?  By  the  13tb  of  August  tbe  treaty  of 
Noyon  was  completed.  Its  discussions  bad  been  kept  a  pro- 
found secret ;  so  profound  tbat  three  days  after  it  bad  been 

'  In  Jane.  Sec  II.  2006.  *  II.  2165. 

*  II.  2075,  2079.  "  II.  2^06. 
2  June  :  20U'J.  '  II.  221<J. 

*  II.  2132.  »  II.  2224,  2248. 


154  THE  REIGN"  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

signed  Maximilian  was  trying  to  amuse  Henry  with  a  proposal 
to  descend  into  the  Low  Countries  and  assist  him  "in  pulling 
up  the  tares  from  the  wheat;  "^  or  rather,  in  pulling  down 
the  potent  ministers  of  his  grandson.  On  the  faith  of  this 
promise  he  had  induced  the  King  to  reimburse  Friscobald  the 
60,000  florins  for  which  Pace  had  been  dragged  out  of  his 
sick  bed.^ 

But  the  end  had  not  yet  come.    With  real  or  well  assumed 
repugnance  Maximilian,  as  if  loth  to  face  the  English  ambas- 
sador, desired  his  secretary  Maraton  to  inform  Wingfield  of 
the  secret  terms  concluded  at  Noyon.     In  its  arrangements 
England  had  been  passed  over  without  notice.     Charles  had 
consented  to  take  Anne,  the  French  King's  infant  daughter,  in 
the  place  of  Eenee ;   and  France  in  return  had  waived  all 
claims  to  Naples.     The  Venetians  were  to  be  called  on  to  pay 
the   Emperor  200,000   florins  for  Brescia  and  Verona.     Sir 
Eobert  was  thunderstruck.     Could  this  be  that  Maximilian 
who  had  vowed  eternal  vengeance  against  the  French,  and 
persuaded  Wingfield  they  were  worse  than  Judas  ?     On  the 
faith  of  such  protestations  Wingfield  had  pawned  his  honour, 
and  would  have  staked  his  life.     He  had  assured  his  master 
of  Maximilian's   desire   to   repair   the   blunders   of  the   last 
campaign.     On  his  own  responsibility  he  had  advanced  the 
Emperor  60,000  florins.     In  contradiction  to   the  advice  of 
Pace  he  had  been  a  party  to  the  gross  device  of  the  Emperor 
for  making  Henry  Duke  of  Milan,  and  placing  on  his  head  the 
Imperial  crown.    Now  Empire,  Dukedom,  money,  all  were  lost. 
The  million  and  a   half  spent  by  Henry  on  the  war^  had 
evaporated  in  smoke.    The  invasion  of  France  was  a  ridiculous 
dream  ;  its  supremacy  had  been  established,  and  all  the  efforts 
to  counteract  that   supremacy  were  dashed  by  the  cunning 
contrivances  of  two  men  (Chievres  and  the  Chancellor),  the 
Emperor's  own  nominees.    Sir  Eobert  w^as  abashed,  and  could 
make  no  answer.     He  wrote,  in  reply  to  Maraton's  communi- 
cation,^ "that  hitherto  the  Emperor's  Majesty  had  peculiarly 
suffered  his  bounty  and  goodness  to  vanquish  his  great  wisdom 
and  experience ;  "—(in  less  courtly  phrase,  he  had  allowed 
himself  to  be  duped  by  others  of  less  intelligence  than  himself ;) 
— now  Sir  Eobert  hoped  his  goodness  would  give  way  before 
his  experience  ;  that  he  would  take  vengeance  on  those  who 
had  endeavoured  to  separate  him  from  his  tried  friends,  and 

>  II.  2286.  2  II.  2291. 

2  Yet  Wolsey  sets  it  down  at  80,000L  only.     No.  210-i.  *  II.  2310. 


1516.]  WAS   THE   EMPEROR   A   PARTY?  155 

"  strike  his  enemies  with  fear  and  confusion."  There  "was 
one  hope  left  :  Maraton  had  solemnly  assured  him  that  the 
Emperor  was  no  party  to  these  arrangements.^  Sir  Eohcrt 
was  comforted ;  his  letter  was  read  to  Maximilian.  The 
Emperor  would  follow  his  suggestion :  he  had  never  thought 
of  ahandoning  England ;  if  the  King  would  remain  firm, 
nothing  should  separate  their  friendship.^  His  heart  had 
been  torn  by  one  apprehension,  that  Henry  would  not  help 
him ;  but  now  that  he  was  assured  of  the  contrary  he  would 
arm  and  straight  set  forward.  Once  more  Sir  Eobert  was 
delighted;  it  was  needless,  he  said,  "to  stimul  the  Emperor 
very  busily,"  ^  for  no  man  could  be  better  disposed.  When 
he  found  himself  strong  and  united  with  the  Catholic  King  he 
would  not  fail  to  punish  the  traitors.  In  the  abundance  of 
his  hope  and  charity,  Wiugfield  had  not  only  forgiven  Pace, 
but  had  even  induced  the  Emperor  to  take  Pace  into  favour, 
on  the  assurance  that  his  "  jjroterve  conduct  "  should  not  be 
repeated.  Two  days  after  Maraton  wrote  to  him  again  :  "  The 
Emperor  is  continually  urged  to  accejit  this  foul  peace  with 
France."  Wingfield  mast  come  and  counteract  those  intrigues ; 
but  unless  he  could  muster  6,000  gold  florins,  his  success 
would  be  questionable.^  The  Emperor  desired  10,000  crowns  ; 
then  he  would  leave  for  Namur.  Wolsey  offered  5,000  if  he 
would  come  to  Calais,  and  5,000  more  when  there.  The 
Emperor  (writes  his  daughter  Margaret  to  the  imperial  ambas- 
sadors in  England)  is  very  poor ;  the  least  they  can  do  is  to 
allow  him  10,000  florins  a  month  while  he  is  away ;  ^ — he  is 
very  much  pressed  by  the  French ;  but  nothing  except  his 
urgent  poverty  will  induce  him  to  listen  to  their  proposals. 

The  measures  now  adopted  were  of  Henry's  minting.  He 
proposed  to  meet  the  Emperor  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  join 
with  him  in  removing  those  "  corrupt  councillors  "  of  Charles,® 
who  had  attempted  to  break  the  old  friendship  between  England 
and  Burgundy.  The  King  of  Castile  was  bound  by  the  treaty 
of  Noyon  to  marry  the  daughter  of  the  French  King,  provided 
that  in  the  event  of  her  death  he  should  marry  another  not 
yet  born.  "  This  is  the  most  slanderous  alhance,"  exclaimed 
Henry,  "that  ever  was  heard  of;  and  the  disparity  of  ages 
great;  for  the  King  of  Castile  is  seventeen  yeai's  old;  the 
French  King's  daughter  not  one  year."     The  Emperor  cun- 

1  IT.  p.  712.  *   Sopt.  1,  1516.  II.  2335,  2:i39. 

^  J  I.  z:515.  "   J  J.  2357. 

»  LL  2319.  «  II.  ^3«7. 


156  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

ningly  lamented  that  he  had  never  been  imphcitly  trusted ; 
was  sorry  his  advice  had  not  borne  the  fruit  desired  by  both. 
He  had  done  his  uttermost,  and  was  so  extremely  driven  "  he 
knew  no  remedy  but  to  accept  this  detestable  peace."  ^  The 
Venetian  offer  of  200,000  ducats  was  tempting ;  with  the  aid 
of  it  he  should  be  able  to  help  the  King  and  assist  himself 
against  France.  Could  such  arguments  be  resisted  ?  Was 
he  to  abandon  Verona,  to  which  he  had  sent  that  day  40,000 
florins  and  10,000  florins'  worth  of  cloth  (as  he  told  Wingfield), 
only  for  the  want  of  a  small  sum  from  England,  which  should 
be  punctually  repaid?  To  urge  his  request  with  greater 
cogency.  Cardinal  Sion  was  sent  into  this  country — a  man  of 
great  vigour  and  no  less  plausibility.^  He  had  a  long  colloquy 
with  the  King  and  Wolsey  at  Greenwich,  and  the  same  day 
the  two  Cardinals  dined  together.  On  his  return  Wolsey  was 
observed  to  be  angry  and  excited.^  Since  he  had  been  -at  the 
helm,  men  said,  they  had  never  seen  him  in  such  a  state  of 
perturbation.  Sebastian,  who  narrates  the  interview,  was  at 
a  loss  to  guess  the  cause.  He  thought  it  might  arise  from 
"  the  insolence  of  this  Cardinal  of  Sion,"  or  the  receipt  of 
fresh  intelligence  at  variance  with  the  asseverations  of  the 
imperial  ambassador,  "  who  tells  lies  by  the  dozen."  We, 
who  know  much  more  than  he  did  of  Cardinal  Sion's  letters, 
may  with  much  better  reason  infer,  that  the  anger  of  Wolsey 
was  roused  by  the  Emperor's  unblushing  effrontery  in  im- 
puting the  failure  of  the  late  expedition  to  the  Cardinal's 
noncompliance  with  his  ceaseless  demands  for  money ;  or  else 
to  the  unscrupulous  calumnies  of  Sion,  who  slandered  Pace 
and  Galeazzo,"^  taxing  them  with  spending  the  sums  entrusted 
to  them  to  gratify  theii-  own  inclinations,  without  regard  to 
the  common  interests  of  the  confederates.  More  probably, 
Wolsey  refused  to  lend  himself  to  the  wild  projects  and  bound- 
less expenditure  that  found  no  limits  in  the  overweening 
ambition  and  desires  of  Sion.  The  projects  he  had  conceived 
may  be  guessed  from  the  draft  of  a  proposal  in  his  own  hand, 
submitted  to  the  King  and  Wolsey.^  To  prevent  Verona  from 
falling  into  the  hands  of  the  French,  he  required  that  the 
King  of  England  should  advance  the  Emperor  40,000  crowns  ; 
then  by  the  next  Christmas  the  Emperor  should  visit  Brabant, 

*  II.  2441.  of  the  money  destined  for  the  Swiss. 
2  Oct.  II.  2449.  (II.  2500.)  The  charge  was  purely 
'  II.  2464.                                                  malicious. 

*  II.  2473.     He  accused  Galeazzo  *  Oct,     II.  2463. 
of  having  appropriated  100,000  crowns 


1516.]      PROPOSAL    TO   REMOVE   CHARLES'   COUNCILLORS.      157 

and  depose  "  those  wicked  governors  "  of  Charles — Chievres 
and  the  Chancellor.  Here  he  was  to  be  joined  by  Henry,  who 
should  be  pressed  to  receive  the  imperial  crown ;  and  thus  the 
King  should  become  the  champion  of  Christendom,  the  Emperor 
his  lieutenant  to  fight  under  his  banner,  and  the  Dukedom 
of  Milan  his  fief.  Could  Wolsey  be  a  party  to  such  wild 
schemes  ?  ^ 

The  Emperor's  treasurer,  Fillinger,  notoriously  addicted  to 
the  French  interests,  wrote  to  Sion,  congratulating  him  on 
his  dexterous  negociation  in  procuring  from  England  40,000 
crowns,^  which  he  trusted  was  only  an  earnest  of  good  things 
to  come.  All  parties — a  rare  thing  on  such  occasions — seemed 
equally  pleased ;  those  who  were  paid,  and  those  who  had  to 
pay.  Sion  left  on  the  8th  of  November  with  presents  from 
the  King  and  Wolsey  to  the  value  of  4,000  ducats  ;  ^  and  he 
dropped  a  modest  memorial  for  Wolsey,  requesting  an  annual 
pension  for  his  services  to  England  until  the  next  vacant 
bishopric.^  The  Swiss  were  promised  30,000  crowns  annually. 
Wingfield  was  beside  himself  with  this  last  loving  and  liberal 
act  of  his  master.  The  Emperor  dilated  on  it  in  such  pathetic 
terms,  that  Sir  Eobert,  as  he  tells  us  himself,  "  could  scantly 
abstain  from  tears."  So  much  happiness  for  40,000  crowns  ! 
What  might  not  come  of  it?  The  Swissers  would  "dance 
after  his  pipe."  The  Emperor's  descent  so  suddenly  in  harness 
would  "  put  water  on  the  fire  "  kindled  by  the  French  and  their 
"  fautors."  Even  Charles  had  kissed  the  rod,  and  expressed 
his  "  contrition  "  if  anything  had  been  done  by  him  or  his, 
prejudicial  to  their  common  interests  (so  at  least  the  Emperor 
told  Wingfield)  ;  and  as  for  his  grandson's  councillors,  "they 
were  so  besotted  and  blinded  with  promises  and  crowns  of 
France  that  they  cared  nothing  about  their  master  or  him,  so 
they  might  carry  the  whole  of  Christendom  into  the  French 
bands  to  his  peril  and  that  of  Henry  "^  The  Emperor  was 
therefore  "determined  to  descend  into  the  Low  Countries, 
and  provide  such  a  remedy  there  as  God  will."  On  the  21st 
of  November  he  pressed  for  payment  of  10,000  crowns  for  the 
first  month,  as  without  them  his  visit  must  be  abandoned. 

1  See  Henry's  remarkable  letter  to  same  letter  shows  that  it  was  the  King, 

Wolsey  (U.  2218),  on  receivint?  the  im-  and  not  Wolsey,  who  was  anxious  for 

perial  ambassadors.     "Touching   the  the  Emperor  to  visit  the  Low  Count  rio8. 
resif^nation  of  the  imperial  crown,  the  "  II.  2508. 

ambassadors  spoke  generally,  but  they  '  II.  2.')  1'.3. 

thought  the  Emperor  woaUl  resign  it :  *  11.  2528. 

and  we  think  they  mean  nothing."   The  *  II.  25.'J(). 


158  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [AD. 

By  the  24th,  with  the  help  of  6,000  florins  advanced  by  Wing- 
field,  he  had  proceeded  four  hundred  miles  on  his  journey.^ 
Arrived  at  Hagenau  in  the  Nether  Alsace,  and  the  money 
duly  paid,  the  qualms  of  Maximilian  began  to  return.  He 
was  afraid  after  all  he  should  be  compelled  to  follow  the 
wishes  of  his  council,  of  which  "  some  been  either  blinded, 
abused,  or  corrupted  by  the  French  and  their  adherents."^ 
Wingfield  insisted  on  the  faithfulness  of  his  master,  as  proved 
by  all  his  actions ;  urged  how  he  had  put  himself  to  great 
business  and  huge  charge  and  cost  for  the  weal  of  Christendom, 
the  defence  of  the  Emperor  and  his  nephew.  It  might  be 
nothing  more  than  the  old,  stale  trick  of  the  Emperor,  to 
practise  on  Wingfield's  fears,  and  extract  money  more  rapidly 
from  England  ;  or  it  might  be  one  mode  of  preparing  the 
unsuspecting  ambassador  for  that  revelation,  which  could  not 
long  be  delayed.  One  incident  must  be  told  as  illustrating 
the  relations  and  characters  of  the  two  men.  On  riding  to 
church,  "  I  upon  his  left  hand,"  says  Wingfield,^  "  being 
approached  nigh  to  the  church  door,  there  came  a  hen,  being 
right  fair  and  diverse  of  colour,  which  peaceably  did  light 
upon  my  bridle  hand,  as  she  had  been  a  hawk,  and  there 
remained  without  moving."  When  one  of  the  ushers  pro- 
ceeded to  remove  it,  the  Emperor  seemed  to  be  greatly  taken 
with  it ;  and,  says  Wingfield,  "  he  esteemed  verily  the  same 
to  presage  some  good  fortune,  and  at  the  least  be  esteemed 
that  before  the  end  of  the  year  the  Lady  of  France  *  should 
come  unto  my  hand."  Out  of  such  stuff  did  Sir  Eobert  weave 
comfort  for  himself. 

By  the  3rd  of  December  the  Emperor's  doubts  had  thickened. 
He  did  not  question  Henry's  liberality ;  yet,  unless  he  were 
assured  of  some  monthly  provision,  he  was  certain  his  council 
would  never  consent  to  his  making  this  descent.^  On  the  5th, 
Sir  Robert,  in  conjunction  with  Sion,  agreed  to  pay  the 
Emperor  30,000  florins ;  influenced  by  the  assertion  of 
Fillinger,  that  if  he  went  to  Flanders  there  would  be  no 
money,  and  he  must  submit  to  the  dictation  of  Chievres  and 
the  Chancellor.^  On  the  8th,  Margaret  of  Savoy  wrote  to 
Hesdin,  her  ambassador  in  England,  that  he  must  do  his  best 
to  procure  the   10,000   florins   from   Henry; — the   Emperor 

»  II.  2589.  Jien. 

-  II.  2fi05.  ^  II.  2626 ;  and  compare  with  this 

3  II.  2605.  2627. 

*  Gallus,  a  Frenchman ;  Gallina,  a  *  II.  2636. 


lolC.}  THE   EMPEROR'S   DOUBLE   DEALING.  159 

would  certainly  come,  and  nothing  more  was  required  than 
for  the  money  to  be  lodged  at  Treves.  "  Fail  not,"  she  tells 
him,  "for  God's  sake,  as  all  the  good  and  ill  of  our  affairs 
turns  upon  it."  As  the  King  of  England  had  already 
advanced  so  much,  10,000  florins  more  were  but  a  trifle. 
Hesdin  must  contradict  the  rumour  in  circulation  that  the 
Emperor  had  made  terms  with  France.  She  knows  the 
contrary  from  his  letters  and  those  of  Maraton.  He  is  to 
assure  the  King  of  England  there  is  not  a  word  of  truth  in 
the  scandal;  the  Emperor  would  never  have  thought  of  such 
a  thing  without  first  consulting  his  brother  of  England.  Pos- 
sibly he  shows  an  outward  complaisance,  but  that  is  only 
assumed  to  further  the  designs  of  Wolsey  and  Sion.  But,  she 
adds  with  increasing  earnestness,  if  Hesdin  ever  in  his  life 
wished  to  serve  her  and  the  Emperor,  he  must  at  all  hazards 
obtain  the  10,000  florins. ^ 

It  was  a  little  too  gross.  Four  days  before  that  letter  was 
sent,  the  chivalrous  Maximilian,  the  candidate  for  the  honours 
of  saintship,  and  the  representative  of  the  Holy  Eoman 
Empire,  had  secretly  taken  his  oath  to  the  treaty  of  Noyon, 
and  resigned  all  claim  upon  Italy  for  200,000  ducats;— and 
that  Margaret  knew.^  There  was  no  remedy.  "  I  am  told," 
says  Tunstal,  who  communicated  the  intelligence,  "by  your 
Grace's  friends,  that  it  is  taken  for  a  surety  that  the  lord 
Chievres  hath  turned  the  Lady  Margaret  as  well  as  the 
Emperor,  and  that  she,  seeing  the  great  inclination  that  the 
King  of  Castile  hath  to  the  said  lord  Chievres,  and  thinking 
that  it  cannot  be  removed,  has  yielded.  For  which  cause 
your  Grace  should  show  no  more  to  her  servants  than  as 
much  as  ye  cared  not  that  the  lord  Chievres  know "  (she 
had  been  imjDlicitly  trusted  in  England  under  the  impression 
that  she  was  inalienably  attached  to  English  interests) ;  "  for 
whatsoever  she  knoweth  it  cometh  out  by  one  means  or  other. 
And  the  same  your  friends  do  think  it  shall  be  meet  for  your 
Grace  so  to  use  liberality  to  your  Grace's  friends,  tJiat  your 
Grace  keep  always  yourself  strong  enough  in  your  coffers  to  u-ith- 
stand  the  malice  of  the  French  king.''  ^ 

The  King  and  Wolsey  were  incredulous.  It  was  impossible. 
The  news  could  not  be  true.  The  latter  wrote  to  Tunstal  to 
tell  him^  that  Henry  thought  he  must  have  been  deceived, 
and  the  report  had  been  devised  by  Chievres  and  the  Chan- 
cellor to  make  the  King  mistrust  the  Emperor  and  my  Lady, 

'  II.  2G52.       ^  II.  2G33.       »  II.  2640.       *  II.  2700. 


160  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

secure  their  own  power,  and  counteract  the  practices  of  Henry 
and  Maximilian.  Tmistal  was  to  use  every  effort  to  discover 
the  truth.  "It  may  he,"  wrote  Wolsey,  "that  the  Emperor 
doth  play  on  hoth  hands,  using  the  nature  of  a  participle, 
which  taketh  jMrtem  a  nomine  et  partem  a  verho."  If  either 
the  Emperor  or  my  Lady  have  any  honour  they  will  not  fall 
in  with  France  without  the  King's  consent,  having  bound 
themselves  by  letters  under  their  own  hands.  By  letters  from 
Sion,  the  Emperor,  and  the  Lady  Margaret,  of  as  late  date  as 
Tunstal's,  the  King  had  been  assured  that  the  Emperor  would 
keep  his  promise, — that  he  was  going  to  the  Low  Countries  to 
break  the  amity  between  the  Kings  of  Castile  and  France,  and 
remove  Chievres  and  the  Chancellor  from  office ;  though 
meanwhile,  to  avert  their  suspicions,  he  pretended  to  be  in- 
clined to  peace.  The  King  sent  the  10,000  florins  demanded 
by  the  Emperor  for  that  purpose;  and  if  Tunstal  could  be 
sure  that  the  Emperor  had  not  made  peace  with  France,  he 
was  empowered  to  deliver  the  money  to  my  Lady,  "binding 
her  by  her  honour  not  to  dissemble." 

The  cold  and  cautious  character  of  this  minister,  destined 
afterwards  to  take  a  prominent  part  in  advancing  the  Refor- 
mation, much  to  his  own  regret,  is  discernible  in  this  negocia- 
tion.  He  was  one  of  those  whose  first  thoughts  were  more 
trustworthy  than  his  second.  His  habitual  caution  and 
timidity  foiled  his  first  and  better  judgment.  Wolsey's  letter 
threw  him  into  great  perplexity.  It  was  left  to  his  own 
responsibility  whether  he  should  pay  or  withhold  the  money  ; 
and  no  man  liked  responsibility  less  than  Tunstal.  His 
answer  is  a  model  of  prudent  diplomacy.^  He  began  by  re- 
hearsing all  the  points  of  Wolsey's  instructions ;— had  read  them 
over  very  oft,  "  to  comprise  well  the  king's  mind  by  the  same. 
And  after  I  had  more  fully  apperceived  the  contents  of  them, 
I  was  as  greatly  perplexed  in  my  mind  as  ever  I  was  in  my 
Kfe,  considering  the  present  state  of  this  court,^  which  is,  that 
such  as  do  favour  the  King's  Grace  and  the  Emperor  dare 
not  now  of  long  time  come  at  me,  nor  yet  send  to  me,  for  fear 
of  falling  into  the  displeasure  of  these  governors,  which  here 
do  all,  and  no  man  dare  offend  them,  they  be  so  great  with 
the  king  of  Castile  their  master."  He  proceeds  to  say,  that 
in  order  to  obviate  the  suspicions  of  these  ministers,  he  had 
received  a  message  from  the  Lady  Margaret  desiring  him  to 
forbear  all  personal  interviews.     Therefore  he  had  no  alter- 

1  jj_  2702.  "  Of  Brussels. 


1516.]  TUNSTAL   DEMANDS   AN   EXPLANATION.  161 

native  except  to  communicate  with  her  by  Eichmond  herald. 
Eichmond  demanded  of  her,  "  whether  this  peace  late  made 
betwixt  the  Emperor  and  the  French  king  was  made  by  the 
consentment  of  the  Emperor  or  not,  and  how  it  fortuned  that 
he,  contraiy  to  his  promise  and  hers  made  by  their  letters, 
should  consent  to  any  such  appointment.  She  said  it  was 
done  for  to  abuse  those  governors  for  the  time,  to  the  intent 
the  Emperor  might  more  easily  achieve  his  purpose ;  but  for 
all  that,  she  said,  she  had  sure  and  late  words,  both  from  the 
Emperor  and  the  Cardinal  of  Sion,  that  whatsoever  thing  he 
doth  outwardly  for  abusing  of  these  men  she  should  not 
regard  it ;  for  surely  he  was  fixed  in  his  mind  not  to  vary 
from  the  appointment  taken  with  the  king  of  England  and 
her,  for  no  offer  that  could  be  made  him."  In  confirmation 
of  this  statement  she  took  care  to  show  the  herald  letters  from 
the  Emperor's  court,  expressing  his  unalterable  resolution. 
The  Emperor,  it  is  true,  had  put  Verona  into  the  hands  of  the 
King  of  Castile  because  Charles  could  keep  it  better  than  he, 
but  the  Emperor  had  no  intention  of  abandoning  it  to  the 
French ;  no  heed  must  be  given  to  such  things  as  Tunstal 
heard  or  saw,  for  there  should  soon  come  a  physician  "who 
should  heal  all  these  sores."  In  such  a  combination  of 
treachery  it  was  hard  to  decide.  If  Tunstal  refused  the  money 
he  knew  full  well  that  the  Emperor  with  his  usual  trickiness 
would  plead  that  refusal  as  his  excuse  for  joining  France 
openly ;  if  he  paid  it,  he  had  to  incur  the  anger  of  his  sovereign 
for  his  blunder.  He  chose  the  latter  alternative.  But  before 
doing  so  he  sent  Eichmond  to  Lady  Margaret  to  tell  her  that 
"  whereas  at  her  request  the  king  had  suj^Ji^lied  the  Emperor 
with  money,  and  not  failed  him  in  his  need,  he  trusted  that 
now  she,  regarding  her  honour  and  virtue,  would  not  abuse 
the  king's  most  trusted  friend"  (Wolsey),  but  if  she  really 
thought  that  the  Emperor  had  joined  the  treaty  of  Noyon,  she 
would  plainly  tell  him  so.  "  It  were  long  to  write,"  continues 
Tunstal,  "  the  words  which  she  answered  again  as  Eichmond 
showed  me ;  but  the  effect  was,  that  rather  than  she  would 
consent  to  any  such  fraud  and  so  distain  her  honour,  she  had 
liever  enter  into  some  religion,  never  to  come  al)road  nor  to 
look  man  in  the  face  again  ;  that  all  the  world  if  she  were 
such  a  one  would  speak  dishonour  of  her."  On  this  assurnnce 
Tunstal  paid  the  10,000  golden  florins.  "What  else  could 
he  do? 

The  affair  looked  far  from   satisfactory,  least  of  all  for 

VOL.  I.  M 


162  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

Wolsey.  He  had  now  become  the  prime  and  almost  sole 
adviser  of  the  King.  Archbishop  Warham  had  permanently- 
withdrawn  from  the  council ;  Fox  was  seldom  there  ;  Suffolk 
was  either  in  disgrace  or  offended  ;  Euthal,  bishop  of  Durham, 
never  uttered  a  single  word  in  opposition  to  the  great  Cardinal ; 
the  others  were  mostly  men  of  inferior  talents  and  birth. 
Eightly  or  wrongly,  Wolsey  was  considered  as  exclusively 
responsible  for  the  policy  now  pursued.  He  wrote  to  Wing- 
field,^  "  The  king  is  marvellously  perplexed  and  anguished  to 
understand  by  letters  from  his  ambassador,  Mr.  Tunstal,  in 
the  court  of  the  king  of  Arragon,  that,  contrary  to  all  such 
promises  as  the  Emperor  hath  made  to  the  king,  yet  without 
his  consent  and  knowledge  he  hath  taken  and  made  a  truce 
with  the  French  king ;  not  only,  if  it  be  so,  to  the  ruin  of  all 
Christendom,  but  also  to  his  perpetual  shame."  He  added 
that  the  King  trusted  the  Emperor's  honom*,  and  hoped  the 
report  was  not  true,  "  but  the  contrived  drifts  of  M.  de  Chievres 
to  induce  the  king  to  mistrust  the  Emperor."  Wingfield  was 
commissioned  to  show  this  letter  to  the  Emperor,  and  tell  him 
that  if  the  report  were  not  true  the  king  would  at  their  meet- 
ing pay  him  20,000  florins,  in  addition  to  the  10,000  sent 
already  to  Tunstal ;  if  otherwise,"  the  king  was  not  minded  to 
give  him  one  florin,  but  should  have  cause  never  to  trust  him 
or  speak  honour  of  him  again."  To  this  letter  Sion  replied '"^ 
that  the  Emperor,  in  consequence  of  his  necessities,  had  been 
compelled  to  give  up  Verona  to  Charles,  and  the  messengers 
sent  for  that  purpose  had  been  seduced  by  the  regents.  Had 
he  tried  to  remove  them  abruptly  it  would  have  been  worse  ; 
as  it  was,  he  should  gain  his  end  by  this  apparent  compliance 
with  their  wishes.  He  did  not  deny  that  Maximilian  had 
sent  his  mandate  for  accepting  the  treaty  of  Noyon,  but  this 
would  only  give  him  an  opportunity  of  visiting  his  nephew, 
and  explaining  to  him  in  person  the  ingloriousness  of  the 
compact,  and  bringing  him  over  to  Henry's  views.  The  King 
need  not  fear  the  Emperor  would  deceive  him,  for  he  was  too 
well  acquainted  with  the  subtlety  and  deceitfulness  of  the 
French.  "  There  was  not  a  drop  of  French  blood  in  his  veins, 
nor  a  French  hair  in  his  head."  He  hated  all  Frenchmen  to 
the  backbone.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Wingfield  did  not 
write  on  this  occasion,  but  referred  the  king  to  Sion's  letter  ; 
for  which  he  incurred  a  reprimand,  and  was  ordered  to  be 
more  attentive  in  future.^ 

J  II.  2678.  ^  II.  2707.  *  II.  2714. 


1517.]  WOLSEY   PURSUES   THE   SAME   COURSE.  16 


o 


If  Sion's  excuses  indicate  a  rooted  belief  in  the  unlimited 
credulity  of  Englishmen,  he  held  that  belief  in  common  with 
most  foreigners  and  all  members  of  the  imperial  court.     He 
had  been  fortified  in  that  impression  by  his  late  munificent 
reception  here  ;  he  had  seen  more  wealth  and  abundance  than 
had    ever   entered   the   imagination   of  a   poor  mountaineer 
Bishop  and  a  needy  follower  of  the  penniless  Maximilian.    Like 
strangers  then,  and  since,  he  had  drawn  a  hasty  inference  that 
Englishmen  were  careless  of  money  because  they  were  bounti- 
ful in  spending  it,  and  that  it  needed  only  the  flimsiest  pretence, 
or  the  boldest  asseveration,  to  induce  them  to  part  with  it. 
There  was,  as  I  have  stated  before,  a  sort  of  insular  inex- 
perience  in   diplomatic  chicanery,   traceable  to  our  natural 
position ;  and,  partly  perhaps  as  a  consequence  of  it,  a  disin- 
clination   to    trickery   and    intrigue,    which    made    English 
diplomatists  fair  game  to  the  wily  and  unscrupulous.     But  it 
must  be  reckoned  something  worse  than  a  want  of  ordinary 
political  sagacity  if  Wolsey  allowed  himself  to  be  deceived  by 
these  absurd  and  transparent  excuses  of  Sion,  Maximilian,  and 
Margaret.      Affecting    ostensibly   to   accept    the    Emperor's 
excuses  as  genuine,  he  made  no  alteration  in  his  measures  ; 
he  continued  to  look  forward  with  anxiety  to  the  time  when 
the   Emperor    should   descend   to   the   Lovv   Countries,  and, 
executing  signal  chastisement  on  the  perfidious  ministers  of 
Charles,  should  by  a  grand  coup  de  main  exonerate  himself 
from  those   suspicions  which  for  the  last  nine  months  had 
gathered  round  his  intentions.     If  such  a  dream  crossed  the 
imagination  of  Sir  Eobert  Wingfield,  and  buoyed  up  the  mild 
enthusiasm  of  a  mind  which  no  experience  could  disenchant, 
it  was  no  more  than  might  have  been  expected.     But  that 
Wolsey  should  be  misled  is  as  incredible  as  it  is  inconsistent 
with  the  popular  conception  of  his  character.     It  was  but  the 
venture  of  40,000  crowns,  of  which  10,000  only  had  yet  been 
paid.     Did  he,  like  a  bold  gamester,  stake  his  luck  upon  the 
chance,  knowing  the  whole  time  that  the  cards  were  against 
him  ?     Or,  conscious  of  his  mistake,  did  he  continue  the  same 
line  of  policy,  though  outwitted  by  the  Emperor,  that  he  might 
not  seem  to  confess  himself  mistaken?    Or  whilst  ostensibly — 
and  to  every  minister  and  ambassador — he  appeared  bent  upon 
carrying  this  point,  was  he  in  fact,  secretly  and  unknown  to  all, 
carrying  out  another  design  which  no  one  suspected  ?    Which 
of  these  surmises  is  the  most  correct  will  appear  in  the  sc(iuel. 
For  the  present  he  exhibited  no  change  of  conduct  towards 


164  THE  KEIGN   OF  HENEY  YIII.  [A.D. 

the  Emperor.  He  listened  without  impatience  to  the  details 
of  the  Emperor's  advance  to  the  Netherlands,  and  to  Sir 
Eobert's  repeated  assurances  of  his  constancy.^  Sir  Robert, 
for  one,  had  no  doubt,  in  his  own  quaint  phraseology,  that  the 
Emperor  adopted  this  course,  which  seemed  so  "  apparent  to 
the  enemies'  purpose,  to  the  intent  he  might  the  more  surely 
convey  himself  to  execute  the  desired  obviation  (to  meet 
Charles)  and  to  lead  everything  pertinent  to  the  same  by  such 
paths  as  might  least  appear  to  the  enemies."  He  did  not 
pretend  to  fathom  the  deeps  of  so  profound  a  mind  as  Maxi- 
milian's ;  nor  did  he  in  his  humility  expect  so  great  a  revela- 
tion. For  that  the  time  had  not  yet  come.  "  The  Emperor 
would  conserve  the  same  till  it  might  come  into  the  forge, 
where  it  shall  may  not  only  take  the  convenient  heat  that  may 
proceed  of  personal  heat  and  ventilation,  but  also  take  the 
right  and  desired  form  which  the  good  Prince  hath  sought  a 
long  season,  as  who  saith,  through  fire  and  water,  with  such 
a  perseverance  as  hath  not  been  oft  seen  in  other  princes." 
As  for  Maximilian  himself  it  was  a  happy  thing,  when  he  had 
received  the  10,000  florins,  that  no  French  "  wolf "  ^  crossed 
his  path,  and  so  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  signalizing  his 
fraternal  affection  "  for  his  brother  and  son,  the  King  of 
England."  "  I  have  not  given  any  cause  to  suspect  or  mis- 
trust me,  nor  will,"  he  exclaimed  in  the  fervour  of  his  grati- 
tude:  "for  though  by  means  of  the  king  my  nephew^  the 
French  do  esteem  to  have  great  hold  on  me,  and  that  by  virtue 
of  my  seal,  yet  I  doubt  not  but  my  brother  doth  esteem  to  have 
greater  hold  by  my  solemn  oath,  which  I  will  never  break. 
And,  besides  that,  I  am  bound  by  this  order  which  I  bear  ;  " 
— and  he  put  his  hand  to  his  collar  of  the  Garter,  and  with 
the  other  opened  his  gown,  and  set  forth  his  leg  with  the  Garter, 
and  over  that  said  :  "  It  is  not  best  ye  tempt  me  any  more  in 
that  matter  of  diffidence  ;  for  to  you  I  have  showed  so  largely 
my  heart  and  mind,  both  by  word  and  deed,  that  further  I 
may  not,  but  gif  (unless)  I  would  open  mine  heart,  and  cause 
you  to  read  what  is  written  in  it."*  That,  of  course,  was  a 
test  which  Sir  Robert,  to  whom  these  words  were  addressed, 
could  not  think  of  demanding. 

So  matters  went  on.  Maximilian  came  down  to  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Brussels ;  and  the  English  agents  looked  forward 
with  the  deepest  anxiety  to  the  time  when  he  should  appear 

>  January,  1517.     No.  2791.  "nephew,"  like  the  Latin  nepos,  was 

-  II.  2775.  used  for  both  relations. 

*  His  ffrandson  Charles.    The  word  ^  II.  2790. 


1517.]  DISHONESTY   OF   MAXIMILIAN.  165 

as  an  avenging  Jupiter  among  the  corrupt  and  conscience- 
stricken  ministers  of  his  grandson.  But  Maximilian  was  not 
the  man  to  do  anything  in  haste ;  besides,  he  had  spent  the 
last  10,000  florins  advanced  him  from  England,  and  there 
were  yet  more  florins  to  be  had,  if  he  could  make  it  appear 
that  he  intended  to  keep  his  promise.  The  Bishop  of  Paris 
was  waiting  for  him  at  Louvain ;  the  English  ambassadors  at 
Brussels  :  Charles,  inconsolable  for  the  loss  of  the  old  Queen 
of  Naples,  was  not  to  be  seen.-^  So  the  Emperor's  visit  to  his 
grandson  was  delayed  ;  and  still  longer  his  vengeance  on  those 
perfidious  governors.  The  French  held  his  bond  for  the 
surrender  of  Yerona ;  he  had  no  interest,  therefore,  in 
deceiving  them  ;  but  he  might  still  make  his  market  with  the 
English  by  continuing  their  delusion.  We  need  much  the 
French  version  of  these  transactions,  in  order  to  see  them  in 
their  true  light.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  Maximilian  had 
long  since  ^  arranged  his  plans,  and  never  really  intended  to 
depose  the  ministers  of  Charles.  It  is  more  than  probable 
that  he  was  in  their  pay  all  the  time  he  was  pretending  to  the 
English  court  that  he  hated  them  for  their  perfidy.  It  is 
certain  that  his  daughter  Margaret  was  a  party  to  this  dis- 
simulation; that  she  made  use  of  her  assumed  regard  for 
England  to  abuse  the  Enghsh  ministers,  and  betray  their 
secrets  to  Chievres  and  the  Chancellor,  whom  she  seemed  to 
detest  and  fear.  Her  professions  of  honesty  were  so  many 
deliberate  falsehoods  calculated  to  serve  her  own  interests  and 
those  of  her  father ;  the  more  monstrous  because  they  were 
always  attended  with  such  earnest  professions  of  veracity. 
Her  interests  as  much  as  Maximihan's  were  secured  by  the 
treaty  of  Noyon. 

The  deceit  could  be  maintained  no  longer.  It  w\as  im- 
possible for  Tunstal  and  the  English  ministers  to  shut  their 
eyes  to  the  fact  that  Maximilian  had  no  intention  to  fulfil  his 
promises ;  equally  impossible  was  it  for  them  to  continue  in 
ignorance  of  that  which  all  the  world  knew— how  Maximihan 
had  sworn  to  the  treaty  of  Noyon,  and  was  on  the  best  possible 
terms  with  Chievres  and  the  French.  Margaret  had  played 
out  her  last  manoeuvre  ;  the  Emperor  the  last  of  his  smilhig 
speeches.  As  it  is  the  last  we  shall  hear  of,  it  may  be  worth 
while  to  repeat  it  here.  When  the  Earl  of  Worcester  called 
upon  him  to  know  his  intentions,''  the  Emperor  said  to  him, 
ag  both  wore  the  Order  of  the  Garter,  ''  that  they  were  com- 

'  II.  2821.  «  In  December,  1510.  '  February  3.     No,  28G0. 


166  THE  REIGN   OF   HENRY   YHI.  [A.D. 

panions  for  that  day;  and,  furthermore,  that  the  Duke  of 
Brunswick,  who  supped  with  him  the  night  before,  had  said 
unto  him,  that  because  his  Majesty  had  so  late  given  hearing 
to  the  French  he  seemed  to  feel  a  great  savour  of  the  same  ; 
wherefore  his  Majesty  had  put  roses  about  his  neck  that 
morning  to  the  intent  that  by  their  sweet  savour  the  French 
odour  might  be  taken  away."  The  narrator  of  this  small 
witticism  is  Sir  Eobert  Wingfield,  as  my  readers  will  have 
anticipated. 

The  English  court  had  been  grossly  deceived.  It  had  paid 
Maximilian's  expenses  to  the  Low  Countries  under  the  impres- 
sion that  he  would  put  down  the  ministers  of  Charles,  and 
that  money  had  been  employed  by  the  Emperor  to  defeat  this 
purpose,  and  promote  his  own  interests,  to  the  detriment  of 
his  ally.  "Our  simple  advice  to  your  Grace  is,"  wrote  the 
English  ambassadors  to  Henry,^  "  that  shutting  your  purse  in 
time  to  come,  by  all  good  means  possible  to  be  with  words 
devised,  to  entertain  the  Emperor  and  my  Lady  (Margaret  of 
Savoy)  ^  as  they  do  your  Grace.  We  think  verily  the  Emperor 
will,  if  he  can,  cast  a  figure  to  come  by  the  20,000  florins 
promised  at  the  meeting  (in  case  he  enter  not  further  intelli- 
gence with  France),  excusing  the  breaking  of  his  promise  by 
one  means  or  other."  Apprehensive  of  Henry's  anger,  and 
what  rash  measures  he  might  insist  upon  when  the  deceit  of 
the  Emperor  should  come  to  his  hearing,  Tunstal  wrote  very 
earnestly  to  Wolsey  :  ^ 

"  Please  it  your  Grace  to  understand,  that  at  this  time,  for  to  under- 
stand the  king's  matters  perfectly,  ye  must  first  read  the  letter  subscr[ibed] 
by  us  all,  and  after  the  other  subscribed  by  my  lord  Chamberlain  and  me, 
and  thirdly  the  king  may  read  the  letter  sent  at  this  time  to  his  Grace 
by  me,  whereunto  I  am  sure  he  will  make  your  Gr[ace]  privy  ;  whereof 
the  eftect  is  that  such  olfer  as  hath  been  made  to  th[e]  king  to  resign  him 
the  empii-e  cannot  be  performed,  by  reason[s]  in  the  same  contained.* 
Here  we  find  great  dissimulation  and  f[air]  words,  but  no  promises  to  be 
kept,  if  they  were  such  as  we  do  take  th[em].  My  lord  Cardinal 
Sedunensis  saith  he  hath  done  his  best.  My  Lady  letteth  as  she  took 
our  part  fastly,  but  I  am  feard  she  dissim[uleth],  and  have  also  done 
awhile  ;  her  words  be  good  to  us  and  w[e]  let  as  we  both  believed  them, 
and  put  all  our  confidence  in  her  ;  but  we  cannot  perceive  but  that  all  in 
deeds  sings  in  one  acco[rd].  Since  I  have  seen  the  progress  of  our 
affairs,  and  have  considered  t[he]  tales  of  Don  John  de  la  Nucha,  with 
whom  yet  my  Lady  remaineth  miscontent,  I  have  thought  that  he  was 
driven  out  of  the  cou[ncil]  chiefly  by  her  because  she  thought  he  knew 
too  much  of  the  Emp[eror's]  dealing,  which  among  the  Spaniards  he 
kept  not  counsel.     I  wrote  that  the  coming  of  the  Emperor  should  declare 

*  II.  2910.  pretends,  for  the  treaty  of  Noyon  is 

2  They   state   in   the   same  letter  beneficial  to  her  lands." 

that  Margaret  was  not  candid:  "She  ^  II.  2923. 

does  not  dislike  the  governors,  as  she  *  See  II.  2911. 


1517]  TUNSTAL'S  ADVICE.  167 

whether  h[is]  tale  of  my  Lady,  or  my  Lady['s]  tale  of  him,  were  more 
true,  for  each  accused  otlier  on  one  point  of  uttering  of  secrets.  I  am 
afraid  all  his  tale  was  not  untrue.  My  Lord,  at  the  revere[nce]  of  God, 
move  the  king  to  make  good  counsel  at  this  time,  and  refrain  his  first 
passions,  in  which  doing  ye  shall  do  his  Grace  marvel[lous]  great  service. 
I  think  verily  all  these  fair  promises  were  made  to  get  monej^  of  the 
king  ;  wherefore  best  is  to  dissemble  wisely  this  past,  and  to  shut  the 
king's  purse  in  time  coming,  but  in  any  wise  to  entertain  such  amity  as  is 
already  betwixt  the  Emperor,  the  King  our  master,  and  also  betwixt  our 
master  and  the  king  of  Castile,  lest  in  other  ways  doing  the  king  should 
remain  destitute  of  friends  ;  surely  I  trust  for  all  this  to  see  the  daj^  that 
they  shall  be  glad  to  seek  in  our  master.  In  my  mind  our  importune 
seeking  so  much  of  this  new  amity  hath  made  more  hindrance  than 
fui-therance,  and  maketh  them  believe  they  may  lead  our  master  (which 
cannot  lack  them  as  they  think),  as  they  list.  .  .  .  Wlien  I  call  to  my 
remembrance  all  these  matters  ; — how  the  Emperor  hath  sent  divers 
ambassadors  to  his  nephew,  which  for  this  confirmation  have  spoken 
great  words  openly,  and  also  outward  a[ss]urance  which  the  Emperor 
made  that  he  would  not  speak  witli  the  F[rench]  ambassadors,  I  have 
thought  all  this  was  to  abuse  us  and  to  g[et]  our  master's  money,  seeing 
after  his  coming  in  person  contrary  effects  do  follow  in  both.   .   .   . 

"  Wherefore,  after  such  sober  manner,  help  so  to  order  all  things  at 
this  time  that  our  master  cast  not  utterly  away  these  his  ancient  friends 
upon  this  new  displeasure.  I  tru[st]  in  the  end  the  repentance  shall  be 
theirs,  if  our  master  will  take  a  little  patience,  whereunto  I  beseech  your 
Gra[ce]  to  help.  And  thus  Almighty  Jesus  preserve  your  Grace  to  his 
pleasure,  with  the  accomplishment  of  your  desires.  Arm  y[oui']  Grace 
Avith  patience,  which  here  we  do  learn  and  have  not  shewed  us  to  any  to 
perceive  so  far  as  we  do.     From  Mechlin,  the  13th  day  of  February. 

' '  By  your  most  humble  headman, 

"  Cuthber[t]  Tunstal." 

This  letter  from  Tunstal  was  followed  by  two  others, 
denouncing  the  Emperor's  conduct  in  terms  of  natural  but 
not  misplaced  indignation.  The  first  is  to  Wolsey  from  Dr. 
"William  Knight,^  an  able  and  sagacious  minister,  whose 
correspondence  exhibits  on  this  and  otlier  occasions  a  sound- 
ness of  judgment  and  extraordinary  moderation,  notwithstand- 
ing his  feelings  of  resentment  at  the  trick  played  by  the 
Emperor. 

"Pleaseth  it  your  Grace  to  understand  that  sith  the  coming  of  the 
Emperor  into  these  parts,  it  hath  appeared  daily  more  and  more  evidently, 
that  such  things  as  he  hath  ottered  and  promised  in  time  past  unto  the 
king  our  sovereign  be  but  abuses  and  dissinuiled  colours,  and  all  to  the 
intent  to  bring  his  matters  better  to  his  piirjtose,  both  with  France,  and 
also  with  these  governors  liere,  whcjse  authority  appeareth  greatly 
augmented  by  the  descent  of  the  Emperor  into  these  parts.  For  where 
divers  and  esi)ecial]y  Spaniards  disdained  greatly  the  governance,  trusting 
that  the  coming  of  the  Emperor  should  a'  redressed  right  great  enormities 
committed  by  them,  and  for  this  consideration  neither  did  them  honour 
nor  made  suit  unto  them,  now  seeing  the  inclinaticm  of  tlie  Em]ieror  unto 
corriiption,  whicli  for  money  selleth  not  only  his  honour,  but  in  manner 
is  persuaded  for  tlie  same  to  all  inconveniences  that  France  aud  tlieso 
governers  will,  they  follow  the  time  ;  but  undoubtedly  they  speak  greivt 

'  ii.  2yyo. 


108  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

dishonour  of  the  Emperor.  This  augmentation  of  authority  and  con- 
tinuance in  the  same  must  follow  necessarily,  and  that  with  increase  ; 
for  they  at  the  king's  charge,  their  master,  doth  satisfy  at  this  time  both 
the  Emperor's  covetous  mind,  and  those  that  be  about  him  also  ;  and 
that  so  largely,  that  all  other  princes'  liberality  sha[ll]  be  greatly 
extenuate  thereby.  They  be  the  cause  of  yielding  up  of  Verona  ;  for 
over  and  above  that  great  sum  that  the  French  king  giveth  unto  the 
Emperor,  they  promised  to  gratify  unto  the  Emperor  also  on  the  king's 
behalf  ;  and  furthermore  he  shall  have  a  yearly  pension  of  Spain.  And 
over  this,  these  governors,  as  it  is  privily  spoken,  hath  concluded  a 
marriage  for  a  great  sum  of  money  between  Madame  Alienor,  the  eldest 
daughter  of  this  house,  and  the  prince  of  Portugal ;  and  of  the  said  sum 
the  Emperor  shall  have  his  part. 

"  Thinketh  your  Grace  that  the  Emperor  being  always  prodigal  and 
consequently  continually  in  necessity  and  need,  which  selleth  his  blood 
and  honour  in  this  manner  for  money,  will  keep  any  promise  that  either 
he  hath  or  shall  make  unto  the  King  1  At  Villefort,  where  he  did  give 
audience  unto  the  French  ambassadors,  he  said  to  the  king  at  his  depart- 
ing, '  Mons  filz,  vous  ales  trumper  les  Fran^oiz,  et  moy  je  va  trumper  les 
Angloise  ;  '  and  immediately  revoked  his  word  and  said  :  '  Nonne,  je  va 
voire  ce  que  je  puis  /aire  avecque  les  Angloise.'  Such  like  reasons  that 
should  give  right  conjecture,  or  rather  very  proofs,  that  all  the  Emperor's 
promises  to  the  King's  highness  be  but  illusions  founded  upon  dissimula- 
tion, I  must  write,  and  so  many,  that  it  should  be  tedious  for  your  Grace 
to  read  ;  and  specially  I  write  the  less,  because  my  lord  Chamberlain  ^ 
writeth  [a]part,  and  Sir  Thomas  Spinelly  abundantly.  If  I  had  been  of 
counsel  with  my  lord  Chamberlain,  in  my  poor  mind,  I  should  Qiave] 
advised  his  lordship  to  have  made  none  overture  touching  the  governance 
here,  considered  that  he  might  see  evidently  that  their  authority  increased 
after  their  first  communication  with  the  Emperor,  and  might  be  right  well 
assured,  that  whatsoever  was  declared  should  immediately  after  be  signified 
to  the  governors  ;  wliich  I  understand  was  done  the  next  day  ensuing  ;  et 
frustra  niti  et  nihil  jrrceter  odium  queer  ere,  etc. 

' '  Your  Grace  showed  me  that  ye  would  break  the  marriage  between 
the  kings  of  Spain  and  France.  I  think  it  might  be  easily  done  ;  but 
peradventiire,  under  your  Grace's  correction,  it  were  not  best  that  such 
occasion  should  come  of  us ;  for  there  is  an  article  in  the  treaty  of  Noyon, 
whereby  the  king  of  Spain  renounceth  all  his  title  and  right  that  he  hath 
unto  the  kingdom  of  Neapolis  for  ever,  in  case  he  do  not  perform  the  said 
marriage  ;  and  also  the  king  bindeth  him,  and  all  his  subjects,  and  all 
their  goods,  wherever  they  may  be  taken,  to  be  as  prize  lawful,  in  case 
the  king  observe  not  the  said  article  ;  and  though  this  bond  be  unlawful 
and  contrary  to  right,  yet  it  should  be  [a]  colour  for  the  Frenchmen  to  do 
great  displeasure,  and  in  conclusion  should  redound  to  our  great  slander 
to  be  of  so  gi'eat  inconvenie[nce].  And  as  for  breaking  of  the  marriage 
your  Grace  may  be  assured  it  will  not  hold,  for  the  lord  Cliievres  hath 
begun  to  satisfy  the  king's  pleasure,  and  suflered  him  to  enter  in  ludum 
Veneris,  and  therefore  I  cannot  think  that  he  will  abide  the  time  of  the 
young  princess  of  France  ;  so  that  with  little  sufferance  of  time  your  Grace 
shall  see  that  he  that  was  first  cause  of  the  said  marriage  shall  be  like 
cause  of  breach  of  the  same  and  loss  of  Neapolis  also . 

"  The  coming  of  the  king  through  England,  though  he  would  be  con- 
tent, yet  should  nothing  ensue  but  expenses  of  your  goods  in  vain  :  for  if 
he  come  your  Grace  may  think  that  all  liis  council  shall  be  of  the  sect  of 
Chievres,  and  all  the  liberality  that  ye  should  use  towai'ds  them  should  be 
lost.  Treaty  ye  should  make  none  that  the  king  would  confirm  ;  for  they 
shall  say  when  they  be  once  at  liberty,  as  was  said  by  the  treaty  concluded 
at  Windsor  by  king^  Pliilip  this  king's  father,  that  if  they  had  been  at 

'  The  earl  of  Worcester. 


1517.]  KNIGHT'S   SCHEME.  169 

liberty  they  would  not  a'  made  any  like  treaty  ;  and  therefore  when  Icino- 
Philip  was  required  to  confirm,  he  refused  it.  And  as  for  meetin<i;  of  the 
Emperor  witli  the  king's  Grrace,  nothing  can  follow  but  importable  charges, 
both  loss  of  time  and  goods,  and  putting  in  hazard  the  king's  reputation 
and  your  Grace's  also  ;  without  your  Grace  could  study  how  to  do  the 
king's  matters  profitably  with  the  Emperor  by  some  such  means  as  the 
Imperator  useth,  which  I  think  would  break  your  Grace's  mind  too  mucli, 
or  (ere)  ye  should  bring  it  to  good  efl:ect,  considered  that  the  Emperor 
hath  neither  money  nor  ware  for  any  prince  to  thrive  by,  that  meddleth 
much  with  him.  Such  money  as  should  be  wasted  by  the  aforesaid  ways 
luay  be  well  employed  for  victualling  of  the  city  of  Tournay  in  season,  or 
for  some  enterprise  to  be  made  upon  the  Scots,  or  elsewhere,  more  necessary. 
Et  quantum  ad  resignacionem,^  etc.,  merce  sunt  nugce. 

"  I  see  nothing  more  convenient  at  this  time  to  distiu'b  part  of  these 
governors'  enterprises  than  (for  because  the  duke  of  Alva,  the  duke  del 
Infantazo,  the  Constable  of  Castile,  witli  other  the  chiefs  of  Spain,  be 
marvellously  miscontent  both  with  the  governe  of  the  Cardinal  of  Toledo  ^ 
in  Spain,  and  with  these  that  governeth  here  ;  and  were  minded  to 
assemble  at  Burgos,  and  from  thence  by  ambassade  to  signify  unto  the 
king  that  the  realm  of  Castile  was  not  wont  to  be  governed  in  such  manner 
as  it  is  now  ;  wherefore  they  would  beseech  his  Grace  to  come  into  his 
realm,  for  they  would  not  be  connnaunded  by  any  other  than  by  his 
Highness) — than  that  the  king  should  send  to  his  ambassador,  there 
resident,  that  might  show  on  his  behalf  unto  the  said  lords,  or  secretly  to 
such  as  it  should  he  thought  best,  what  inconveniences  hath  ensued  by  the 
misgovernment  here,  and  what  is  like  to  follow  ;  and  so  to  show  that  where 
the  late  king,  of  most  noble  memory,  did  leave  the  kingdom  of  Neapolis 
clear  and  free  unto  the  crown  of  Castile,  the  governors  here  had  made  the 
said  realm  bond  and  tributary  unto  France  ;  and  not  only  so,  but  hath 
bound  their  king  in  such  case,  which  is  marvellous  hard  to  keep  and  none 
of  the  noble  estates  of  Spain  would  advise  or  counsel  his  grace  to  keep  ; 
which  if  he  do  not,  that  then  the  right  and  title  of  Neapolis  by  their 
means  is  renounced  for  ever  ;  reciting  also  other  articles  of  the  treaty  of 
Noyon,  which  sheweth  to  be  done  by  the  only  subjects  of  France  and 
not  by  any  of  the  king's  true  subjects  ;  declai-ing  more  apertely  the 
atfection  that  these  governors  hath  to  France,  as  appeareth  by  giving  of 
the  noble  promotions,  which  can  not  stand  with  the  weal  of  their  master  ; 
and  that  the  king,  for  the  singular  love  that  he  beareth  unto  the  king  of 
Castile,  as  he  is  naturally  boimd  to  do,  is  of  the  opinion,  that  he  heareth 
say  that  the  lords  of  Spain  be  ;  that  is  to  say,  that  or  ever  further 
inconvenience  be  imagined  by  these  governors,  which  by  prodigtU  largitiou 
and  promises  of  the  king's  goods  maintain  their  inordinate  authority, 
impoverisliing  the  king,  regarding  neither  his  profit  nor  honor,  the  said 
king  be  instantly  desired  by  the  noble  estates  to  repair  unto  his  realm  of 
Castile  ;  and  what  shall  be  thought  good  and  expedient  by  the  said  lords 
for  the  weal,  profit,  and  honor,  of  their  king  and  master,  tlie  king's 
ambassador  may  promise,  on  the  king's  behalf,  that  he  shall  with  his 
piuissant  aid,  assist  and  maintain  them  to  the  best  of  his  power.  The 
estates  of  Spam  which  be  fierce  of  nature,  and  now  acceiuled  against  these 
men,  if  they  find  assistance  and  favour  of  some  great  personage,  I  think 
they  would  follow  their  opinion  more  ol)stinately.  And  if  by  this  means 
the  king  miglit  win  the  lords  of  Spain,  as  by  mine  opinion  he  shouUl,  then 
might  he  be  assured  of  this  Icing,  and  consequently  enter  sucli  amity  witli 
Spain  as  he  would.  If  this  be  thought  good  counsel  by  tlie  king  and  your 
grace,  and  afterwards  be  wisely  handled,  many  piu'itoses  sliall  be  altered, 
and  specially  this  governance,  which  hateth  the  king  and  yonr  (J race 
mortally  ;  and  the   Emperor  shall  not  have  so  great   advantage   l)y  hia 

'  The  resignation  of  the  empire  to  Ileury.  '  Xiuicucs. 


170  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY  YHI.  [A.D. 

dissimulation  as  he  looketli  for.  It  is  said  undoubtedly  that  these 
governors  and  the  Cardinal  of  Toledo,  governor  of  Spain,  be  reconciled  ; 
therefore  if  there  be  anything  to  be  done  in  Spain  the  rather  the 
better.  .   .  . 

"  Finally,  I  think  there  is  no  ways  more  convenient  than  that  the  king 
do  call  home  his  ambassadors,  and  it  cannot  be  long  or  his  Grace  shall  be 
desired  ;  for  this  time  is  clean  contrary  to  all  that  we  desire,  and  that  by 
reason  of  corruption.  The  Pope  is  good  French,  and  all  the  rest,  that 
may  do  anything,  from  Rome  to  Calais  ;  therefore  Avithout  that,  that  I 
have  mentioned  before,  do  help,  I  can  study  for  nothing.  Your  Grace 
pardon  me  that  I  am  so  plain.  I  think  if  I  were  not  I  should  both  de- 
ceive the  king  and  your  Grace  also,  which  I  shall  never  do  during  my  life  ; 
beseeching  your  Grace  to  be  favorable  and  gracious  imto  me.  These  long 
pains,  true  service,  and  importable  charges  would  somewhat  be  remem- 
bered if  your  Grace  would  help.     And  thus  the  Holy  Ghost  preserve  you. 

"  At  Brussels,  the  16">  day  of  February. 

' '  Your  most  bound  and  assured  beadman, 

"William  Knighte." 

The  other  ^  is  from  the  Earl  of  Worcester  and  Dr.  Tunstal, 
and  was,  like  the  foregoing,  addi-essed  to  the  Cardinal : 

"  My  Lord, — Please  it  your  Grace  to  understand,  that  the  14th  day  of 
this  month  the  Emperor  a[t]  Brussels  did  swear  solemnly  the  amity  and 
treaty  of  Noyon  at  the  great  church,  th[ere]  being  present  the  king  of 
Castile  also  with  many  noblemen  of  both  courts  ;  and  this  day  the  lord 
Chievres  and  the  Chancellor,  as  we  be  informed  from  Bruxe[lles],  do  go 
to  Cambray,  but  wherefore  we  know  not  ;  but  we  hear  say  that  it  is  to 
con[clude]  a  marriage  betwixt  Madame  d'Angouleme  "^  and  the  Emperor, 
with  whom,  as  it  [is]  said,  he  shall  have  500,000  crowns  ;  what  other 
treating  they  shall  have  we  know  not,  peradventure  for  a  meeting  of  all 
the  princes,  or  for  going  by  Fra[nce]  of  the  king  of  Castile,  or  some  like 
matter.  Lewis  Maraton,  in  whom  Ave  have  no  fantasy  of  fidelity  to  our 
master's  affairs,  for  all  his  painted  words,  doeth  say  that  the  Emperor  will 
come  hither  and  treat  with  us  of  diver [s]  our  secret  matters  shortly,  by 
which  time  he  trusteth  we  shall  have  word  ou[t]  of  England  touching  our 
letters  of  the  12th  day  of  this  present  ;  so  that  w[e]  perceive  he  hearkeneth 
all  of  that  matter  to  know  how  our  master  will  take  th[e]  entering  of  this 
new  amity,  to  look  if  our  master  would  put  more  in  the  Emperor's  trust, 
which  now  late  hath  deceived  him  in  making  this  peace. 

' '  What  our  mind  is  touching  that  matter,  ye  know  by  our  letters  of 
the  12th,  sen[t]  to  the  king  ;  which  is,  that  the  king  should  never  consent 
thereto,  but  by  good  word[s]  to  entertain  such  amity  as  ye  have  already 
with  both  the  princes  ;  and  as  for  this  breaking  of  promises,  pass  it  over 
with  dissimulation,  and  trust  no  m[ore]  in  your  outward  afi'airs  to  promises 
of  any  persons,  but  to  trust  to  your  own  self  ;  for  here  we  see  nothing  but 
abusion  by  fair  words  to  suck  money  from  our  master,  and  to  deceive  him 
in  the  end.  I,  the  lord  Chamberlain,  spake  to  the  Emperor  at  my  first 
coming,  desiring  that  I  might  come  unto  him  familiarly  as  one  of  his 
servants  at  all  time,  as  I  reputed  me  to  be  ;  but  after  he  sent  me  word  by 
Lewis  Maraton,  that  we  should  not  come  to  hi[m]  until  he  sent  for  us, 
and  when  he  would  have  us  he  would  send  for  us  ;  for  else  his  business 
was  so  great  he  might  not  attend  us  ;  which,  I  pray  you,  show  the  king 
our  master. 

"The  Cardinal  Sedunensis  giveth  us  good  words,  but  we  perceive  he 
hath  no  such  stroke  with  the  Emperor  as  ye  went  (weened),  and  whether 
he  knew  long  before  of  this  peace  of  Noyon  indeed,  before  he  advertised 

'  II.  2940.  2  Mother  of  Francis  I. 


1517.]  THE   KING  FULLY    PREPARED.  171 

your  Grace,  we  know  not ;  but  by  many  appearance  we  believe  verily  yea, 
and  so  of  iny  Lady  likewise.  \\e  perceive  by  the  framing  of  all  thino's 
here  that  the  king  of  Castile  is  not  like  to  be  at  the  meeting,  if  the  Emperor 
and  the  king  should  meet.  Wherefore,  touching  that  matter,  with  all 
other,  we  beseech  yoiu-  Grace  to  help  we  may  know  the  king's  pleasure. 

"In  the  beginning  the  Emperor  let  as  he  would  not  speak  with  the 
French  ambassadors,  to  amuse  us  ;  but  the  Emperor  and  thej^  have  met 
at  a  close,  and  they  have  all  their  purpose,  and  be  departed  from 
Brussels,  as  we  understand  ;  whereby  ye  may  perceive  tliat  all  those 
I'emonstrances  which  were  made,  that  he  should  not  speak  with  them,  were 
but  colors  to  blind  us  withal,  as  the  eflects  manifestly  do  show.   .   .   . 

"Wherefore,  to  repeat  all  our  mind  in  few  words,  our  advice  is,  as  we 
wrote  in  our  last  letters  more  largely,  that  by  good  words  entertaining 
both  the  Emperor  and  the  king  of  Castile  in  such  amity  as  is  already  with 
them  made,  our  master  should  not  compromise  this  matter  to  the  Emperor, 
nor  to  suffer  neither  my  Lady,  nor  the  Cardinal  Sedunensis,  nor  no 
stranger,  to  lead  the  bridle  of  his  afiarrs  no  longer  ;  which  if  they  do,  it 
will  be  to  the  Emperor's  great  gain,  and  to  our  master's  disadvantage  no 
little.  And  in  the  end  ye  shall  find  them  but  delusions,  as  we  think  ; 
howbeit  we  think  best  that  our  master  do  withdraw  his  foot  out  of  these 
matters,  as  [if]  he  perceived  not  so  far  as  he  doth  ;  and  to  give  good  words 
for  good  Avords,  which  yet  they  give  us,  thinking  our  heads  to  be  so  gross 
that  we  perceive  not  their  abuses,  which  we  dissimule  to  perceive,  because 
we  know  not  how  the  king  our  master  will  take  these  matters  or  order  us 
in  them. 

"  And  albeit  that  the  Emperor  hath  had  the  king's  money  to  pay  his 
costs  to  come  down  to  swear  this  peace  of  Noyon  indeed,  and  no  such 
effects  do  follow  as  the  king  looked  for  at  his  coming,  yet  we  tlunk  it  well 
spent,  both  because  our  master  hath  kept  all  promises  to  his  honour, 
and  also  because  this  small  expense  and  charge  shall  avoid  a  greater, 
which  the  Emperor  was  about,  as  it  seemeth,  to  bring  him  unto.  And 
thus  Almighty  Jesus  preserve  your  Grace  to  his  pleasure. 

"From  Mechlin,  the  18th  day  of  February. 

"  Yours  assured  to  our  powers, 

"  C.   WOECESTER. 

"  CUTHBERT    TUNSTAL." 

But  the  King  liacl  long  been  prepared  for  these  revelations. 
Already  on  the  12th  of  February,  even  Wingfield,  never  inclined 
to  despair,  had  written  to  Wolsey  that  the  secret  negociations 
against  Charles's  ministers,  and  a  stricter  alliance  with  Eng- 
land, could  never  take  effect  ;^  and  two  days  before,  Giustinian 
in  his  amusing  despatches  thus  describes  his  interview  with 
Henry,  on  going  to  announce  to  him  the  surrender  of  Verona 
to  the  Venetians  :  ^  "  Though  I  could  not  go  to  Greenwich  by 
water,  owing  to  the  very  thick  ice,  the  journey  by  land  like- 
wise being  difficult  on  account  of  the  frozen  and  dangerous 
roads,  I  however  rode  thither ;  and  after  I  heard  mass  with 
the  King,  I  acquainted  him  with  the  news  in  such  language  as 
I  deemed  apt,  adding  many  expressions  calculated  to  produce 
a  favourable  impression.  His  Majesty  thanked  me,  and 
remained   in   the    greatest   astonishment,   repeating    several 

1  II.  2U12.  *  H.  289G. 


172 


THE   EEIGN   OF  HENRY  YIII. 


[A.D. 


times,  *  How  cau  that  be  ?  '—as  by  advices  be  bad  received  it 
was  impossible.  On  being  assured  the  intelligence  was  true 
lie  seemed  to  believe  it,  and  said,  '  Verily  the  Emperor  has 
been  deceived  by  the  king  of  France,  and  I  know  how.'  " 
The  next  day  Giustinian  communicated  the  same  news  to 
Wolsey  ;  and,  if  he  is  to  be  believed,  the  Cardinal  "  was  sur- 
prised and  astonished  to  the  utmost.  To  make  sure  of  the 
fact,  he  demanded  to  see  the  letters  ;  and  was  very  cold  in  his 
congratulations  to  Giustiuian's  secretary  on  an  event  so 
fortunate  to  Venice.^  Sebastian  exults  at  the  thought  that 
the  news  was  received  with  the  greatest  possible  vexation. 
Unfortunately  for  Giustiuian's  discernment  as  a  negociator, 
the  King  and  Wolsey  had  long  since  forestalled  his  intelligence. 
As  early  as  the  4th  of  February,  Cardinal  Sion  wrote  to  say, 
"  On  the  8th,  Verona  belonged  to  the  Emperor  ;  on  the  9th,  to 
the  King  Catholic  ;  on  the  15th,  to  the  French  ;  on  the  17th, 
to  the  Venetians."  ^ 

The  news  took  neither  the  King  nor  his  minister  by  sur- 
prise. They  had  been  fully  prepared  for  it.  But  not  a  word 
of  reproach  escaped  from  the  lips  of  either.  In  his  reply  to 
the  letters  of  Tunstal,  Worcester,  and  his  other  ambassadors, 
the  King  states,  in  the  calmest  manner,  that  although  he  had 
in  the  first  instance  written  to  them  to  express  very  sharply 
his  dissatisfaction  with  the  Emperor's  conduct,  yet,  as  Sion 
had  assured  Wolsey  that  the  Emperor,  notwithstanding  all 
appearances,  would  perform  all  his  promises,  the  King  would 
refrain  and  wait.^  They  were  commissioned  to  tell  Maximilian, 
that  though  the  King  was  somewhat  pensive  at  the  deliverance 
of  Verona  and  the  Emperor's  acceptance  of  the  treaty  of 
Noyon,  yet,  considering  his  wisdom,  the  King  was  willing  to 
think  all  was  done  for  the  best.  At  the  same  time  he  let 
them  know  that  he  was  not  deceived  "  by  the  Emperor's 
brittleness  and  sudden  mutations,"  or  that  levity  and  incon- 
stancy which  made  him  seek  "  other  occasions  upon  light 
displeasures  to  color  his  unconstant  dealings,  and  so  cause- 
less  depart   from  a   friend."     However,   it   was   better   "  to 


*  I  do  not  wish  to  impeach  Gius- 
tinian's  veracity,  though  I  have  no 
great  opinion  of  his  political  sagacity. 
It  seems  never  to  have  occurred  to 
him  how  improbable  it  was  that  the 
King  should  have  kept  such  important 
tidings  from  the  Cardinal  for  a  day 
and  night,  especially  as  the  two  were 
at  no  greater  distance  from  each  other 


than  Greenwich  and  London.  But,  as 
I  have  said,  the  delivery  of  Verona  was 
known  to  Wolsey  and  the  King  long 
hefore  it  was  known  to  Giustinian.  It 
was  part  of  the  policy  of  both  to  affect 
the  utmost  surprise  that  the  Emperor 
could  have  been  guilty  of  falsehood. 

2  II.  2869.     See  also  2862,  2863. 

»  II.  2958. 


1517.]  THE   DECEIVERS   OUTWITTED.  173 

dissemble  for  a  season  until  they  should  see  the  end."  They 
were  to  continue  their  negociations  on  the  same  footing  and 
for  the  same  pur^Doses  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

The  policy  was  sound  and  ingenious  ;  it  was  calculated  to 
take  the  deceivers  in  their  own  craftiness,  better  than  the 
loudest  denunciations  of  deceit.  Some  men  are  eventually 
victorious  because  they  never  know  when  they  are  beaten  ; 
the  retaliation  of  others  on  their  deceivers  is  tenfold  more 
ample  and  more  terrible,  because,  till  their  opportunity  has 
come,  they  never  betray  by  word,  look,  or  gesture,  any  con- 
sciousness of  the  injury  received.  By  the  expenditure  of 
10,000  florins,  an  inconsiderable  sum,  Wolsey  had  tested  the 
full  value  of  all  Maximilian's  promises ;  by  betraying  no  dis- 
trust he  fathomed  all  his  designs.  By  pretending  to  believe 
his  professions  of  attachments,  after  all  that  had  taken  place, 
he  gave  others  the  strongest  reason  for  supposing  that  that 
attachment  was  not  without  foundation  ;  and  thus  was  Maxi- 
mihan  brought  under  the  suspicions  of  his  new  friends. 
Aware  of  the  Emperor's  inconstancy,  no  less  than  Wolsey 
himself;  quite  as  convinced  as  he  that  Maximilian's  friend- 
ship was  more  costly  than  his  enmity ;  Francis  knew  that 
when  the  money,  the  price  of  his  acquiescence  in  the  treaty 
of  Noyon,  was  spent,  more  must  be  provided,  or,  as  Henry 
said,  Francis  must  expect  that  Maximilian  would  abandon 
him  on  the  most  frivolous  pretext  and  take  part  with  his 
enemies.  Suspected  by  France,  not  trusted  by  England, 
despised  by  Charles  and  his  ministers  for  his  vacillation  and 
deceit,  Maximilian  had  totally  disqualified  himself  by  this 
last  act  from  taking  any  further  part  in  European  politics. 
From  this  time  he  sank  into  insignificance. 

As  for  Charles  and  his  ministers,  the  treaty  of  Noyon  and 
the  perfidy  of  Maximilian  had  exempted  them  from  all  dread 
of  foreign  interference.  If  Charles  really  believed,  as  he  was 
taught,  that  the  Emperor  wished  to  bring  him  under  tutelage 
and  make  a  child  of  him  again,  that  belief  had  now  vanished  ; 
and  with  it  any  feeling  of  coldness  and  displeasure  he  might 
have  conceived  against  England  for  supporting  Maximilian. 
Chievres  and  the  Chancellor  no  longer  dreaded  the  loss  of 
their  influence,  or  the  predominance  of  English  or  Imperial 
interests.  As  they  had  nothing  to  dread  from  England  they 
were  inclined  to  conciliation.  Perhaps  Chievres  was  not 
altogether  insincere  when  ho  remarked  to  Lady  Margaret, 
after  this  denouement,  "  that  he  hoped  in  six  months  to  bo  as 


174  THE  REIGN  OF   HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

high  in  Henry's  favour  as  those  who  reckoned  themselves  the 
best  EngHsh."  ^  Perhaps,  too,  he  was  not  sorry  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  showing  Henry,  at  the  cost  of  Maximilian,  the 
mistake  he  had  made  in  preferring  the  Emperor's  friendship 
to  theirs ;  and  in  supposing  that  he  could  gain,  by  the 
Emperor's  influence  over  Charles,  advantages  which  his 
ministers  were  determined  to  refuse.  For,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, notwithstanding  Maximilian's  and  Margaret's  ostenta- 
tion of  mystery,  Chievres  and  the  Chancellor  had  been  perfectly 
well  acquainted  with  all  that  had  been  passing.  They  knew 
the  meaning  of  Maximilian's  vapouring ;  the  promises  he  had 
made  to  take  the  King  of  Castile  into  his  own  keeping,  and  to 
punish  his  ministers ;  the  sums  he  had  extorted  from  England 
under  these  pretences.  The  Emperor  soon  became  a  burthen 
to  his  new  friends.  "The  Emperor,"  writes  Spinelly,^  "is 
again  without  money ;  and  if  he  tarry  here  (at  Brussels)  the 
Lady  Margaret  will  have  to  provide  it  for  him," — a  hopeless 
effort.  "  The  Vice-chancellor  of  Arragon  tells  me  that  Chievres 
will  be  glad  of  the  amity  of  England,  but  dares  not  let  it  be 
known  or  give  any  cause  of  suspicion  to  the  French  until  the 
king  reaches  Spain." 

In  fact  the  journey  of  Charles  into  Spain  was  now  the 
great  question  which  occupied  his  exclusive  attention.  A  year 
and  three  months  had  elapsed,  and  as  yet  he  had  made  no 
preparation  for  taking  possession  of  the  kingdom  left  him  by 
Ferdinand.  Urgent  entreaties  came  from  day  to  day,  and 
hints  of  disaffection  which,  if  not  speedily  suppressed  by  his 
presence,  might  prove  fatal  to  his  rights.  This  part  of  his 
life,  and  especially  his  treatment  of  the  celebrated  Ximenes, 
is  little  known,  and  from  want  of  authentic  materials  has  been 
treated  very  meagrely  by  modern  historians.  I  hasten,  there- 
fore, to  point  out  briefly  what  help  may  be  obtained  from  State 
papers  for  a  clearer  insight  into  this  portion  of  modern  history. 
Our  only  agent  in  the  Spanish  court  at  the  time  was  John 
Stile,  wiiose  letters  are  not  the  least  interesting  of  those  which 
I  have  noticed  in  a  previous  chapter.  A  man  of  no  great 
genius  or  political  insight,  he  never  indulged  in  theories  or 
guesses; — he  contented  himself  with  narrating  what  he  saw, 
and  sometimes  what  he  heard  talked  about,  in  an  unaffected, 
artless  style,  which  makes  his  description  of  passing  events 
invaluable,  especially  when  compared  with  the  ambitious  and 
glowing  narratives  of  the  Spanish  chroniclers.     Stile  was  at 

'  II.  2992.     March  6,  1517.  "^  March  30  :  3076. 


1517.]  NEED   OF   CHARLES'    PRESENCE  IN  SPAIN.  175 

Madrid  when  Ferdinand  died,^  and,  as  in  duty  bound,  sent 
immediate  notice  of  the  event  to  his  royal  master.     His  first 
letter  has  been  lost,  but  the  contents  are  briefly  recapitulated 
in  the  second,  dated  the  1st  of  March.'^  He  states  that  Ferdinand 
died  in  the  "village  of  Madrygalegeo,"  on  his  way  to  Seville, 
eight  leagues  from  Our  Lady  of  Guadalupe.     "  Few  estates  or 
men  of  honor  were  present  at  the  decease  of  the  king,  your 
said  father.     The  queen,  his  wife,^  was  there,  and  was  the  day 
before  come  from  the  parts  of  Arragon.     The  king,  jonr  said 
father,  wilfully  shortened  the  days  of  his  life,  always  in  fair 
weather  or  foul  labouring  in  hawking  and  hunting,  following 
more  the  counsel  of  his  falconers  than  of  his  physicians." 
Stile  then  proceeds  to  detail  the  chief  provisions  in  the  late 
King's  will : — the  sums  left  to  his  Queen  and  his  nephews ; 
the   number  and  names   of  his  executors  ;    the  sale  of  his 
jewels;    "that   no  man  should  wear  for  him  sackcloth  nor 
long  beard,"  etc.     He  then  continues  :  "  It  is  to  be  marvelled, 
and  it  please  your  Grace,  that  the  late  king,  your  father,  of 
Arragon,  had  no  manner  of  treasure ;   and  after  that  he  was 
deceased  there  would  never  a  nobleman,  spiritual  nor  temporal, 
go  with  the  corpse  to  Granada,  except  the  marquis  of  Denya. 
Nor  here  hath  been  no  great  obsequies  done  for  the  said  king, 
nor  mourning  made ;    never  less   seen  for  any  prince.     For 
those  that  he  most  loved  and  trusted  first  repaired  to  the 
Prince's  ambassador    with   flatterings.*     And   the    queen   of 
Arragon  (Germaine)  returned  to  Our  Lady  of  Guadalupe,  and 
it  please  your   Grace,    on   the   last   day  of  January."     The 
Cardhial  of  Toledo  (Ximenes)  and  the  Dean  of  Louvaine  had 
the  exclusive  management :   "  notwithstanding,  and  it  please 
your  Grace,  there  is   little  love   or   stedfastness  among  the 
states  of  these   parts  one  with  another,  yet  they  dare   not 
move  in  word  or  deed  against  their  prince  or  his  deputies  of 
Andalusia ; "   where,  as   Stile   says,   dissension  had   already 
begun  to  show  itself  between  the  Duke   of  Medina   Sidonia 
and  Don  Pedro  Jeron.     He  then  tells  an  anecdote  of  the  poor, 
incapable   Johanna,  which  is,  I  believe,  unknown.^     "Also, 

'  The  news  of  Ferdinand's  death  with  a  cruel  melancholike  humour,  so 

was  concoalod  from    Katharine,    then  as  she  led  a  most  lamentable  life  in 

in  labour  with  the  princess  Mary.  the  Castle  of  Tordesillas,  wi.eiein  Kin^ 

-  II.  IfilO.  Fertlinand,    her    father,     had    lodged 

3   Germaine    de    Foix,    his    second  her,  a  pleasant  and  eonunodious  place, 

^jfg  Lewis  Terrier,  of  Valencia,  had  charge 

*'  The  Dean  of  Louvain,  afterwards  of  her,  bein<?  also  captain  of  the  castlo 

Adrian  VI.  of  Tordesillas;  but  he  was  unfit  for 

"This    princess    was    possessed  such  a  business;  for  whether  by  hia 


176  THE  EEIGN  OF  HEKEY  VIII.  [A.D, 

and  it  please  your  Grace,  tlie  queen  of  Castile  is  as  yet  as 
that  she  was  in  the  life  of  the  late  King  her  father ;  and,  as 
reason  is,  her  subjects  would  be  glad  that  she  was  amended 
of  her  disease.  And  for  that  intent,  upon  a  three  or  four  days 
passed,  hither  is  come  certain  persons  to  the  Cardinal  and  to 
the  Lords  and  Council  from  the  town  of  Tordesillas,  where 
the  said  queen  is  ;  and  these  said  persons  have  brought  testi- 
monials and  writings  that  there  be  certain  persons,  priests, 
physicians,  and  other,  amongst  the  which  one  is  the  Doctor 
Soto,  the  said  queen's  physician,  the  which  he  and  the  other 
priests,  with  clergy  and  physic,  upon  pain  of  their  lives,  having 
licence,  will  undertake  for  to  remedy  the  queen  of  her  disease 
within  the  space  of  three  months,  saying  that  she  is  cumbered 
with  sprites  by  witchcraft," 

By  his  next  letter,^  dated  the  3rd  of  April,  we  learn  that 
Charles  had  sent  a  message  toXimenes  and  the  council  in  Spain, 
desiring  them  to  have  him  proclaimed  King,  as  he  had  been 
in  Flanders ;  a  request  to  which  they  declined  to  accede  whilst 
Johanna  was  ahve,  unless  Charles  was  there  in  person.  The 
proclamation  in  Flanders,  made  without  the  assent  of  the 
states  of  Castile,  had  produced  great  irritation.  So  Stile  adds, 
that  in  case  Charles  come  not  hither  in  the  summer,  "  many 
inconveniences  and  troubles  will  arise,  for  the  treasurers  say 
they  have  no  money  belonging  to  the  crown.  The  Cardinal 
(Ximenes)  is  rich,  having  above  400,000  ducats  in  treasure, 
and  is  a  covetous  Grey  Friar,  and  will  not  depart  with  any 
part  of  his  said  treasure,  for  the  defence  and  weal  of  this 
land,  without  good  surety  of  the  Prince."  Such  was  Stile's 
estimate  of  the  great  Cardinal. 

Charles  was  in  great  straits,  and  his  difficulties  were 
increased   by  the  jealousy  and   suspicion   of  his   ministers. 

slowness  growing  by  reason  of  his  age,  vants  prevail  anything  with  Jier.    She 

or  through  ignorance,  he  conld  never  often  complained  that   she  was  kept 

get  her  to  lodge  in  any  pleasant  and  like  a  prisoner,  and  that  they  withheld 

well-aired  chamber  of  the  castle ;  but  her  from  the   government  of   affairs, 

she  would  always    lurk   in   dark  and  like  a  private  person." — "  Mayeme's 

obscure  places  near  the  ground,  fit  to  Hist,  of  Spain,"  by  Grimeston,  p.  935. 
entertain  and  augment  her  melancho-  Among   otlier   fancies,  she    had  a 

like  humour.     She  did  abhor  soft  and  humour    "  to    make    them    leave    the 

delicate  beds,  and  would  lie  upon  the  dishes   full  of  meat  in  her  chamber, 

ground ;  and  if  she  did  lay  herself  upon  not  suffering  them  to  carry  any  one 

a  board  covered  with  a  carpet,  it  was  away;  so  as  the  meat  corruptino-  made 

by   great    importunity.      It   was   not  a  stinking  savor." 
possible  to  make   her   wear  a  furred  »  II.  1732.     Many  of  Stile's  letters 

gown    in    winter,   nor   anything   that  have    been    unfortunately   lost;    and 

was  rich.     She  was  often  three  days  even    if   they    found    their   way   into 

together  without  eating ;  neither  could  foreign    libraries,    being    written    in 

the  prayers  nor  persuasions  of  herser-  cipher,  they  would  be  as  good  as  lost. 


1518.]  OPPOSITION  TO  CHARLES  IN  SPAIN.  177 

They  were  doubtful  of  their  reception  in  Spain ;  doubtful  also 
if  tliej'  should  be  able  to  retain  their  authority  with  such  a 
rival  as  Ximenes,  and  such  nobles  as  the  Duke  of  Alva  and 
the  Constable  of  Castile.  Maximilian  still  lingered  in  the  Low 
Countries,  much  to  their  annoyance,  and  Margaret  was  not  to 
be  trusted.  On  the  other  hand,  every  successive  post  brought 
news  of  the  disputes  between  Ximenes  and  other  members  of 
the  council.  "The  king,"  writes  Spinelly,  "must  go  this 
summer,  or  his  realm  will  be  in  great  peril ;  for  since  the 
Constable  of  Castile  has  resisted  the  Cardinal,  many  lords 
and  towns  have  followed  his  example,  and  their  number 
increases."  ^  The  health  of  Ximenes  himself  was  giving  way. 
In  the  autumn  of  1516  he  was  reported  to  be  dying ;  the  same 
report  was  repeated  in  the  spring  of  the  next  year.^  Evidently 
he  was  the  only  person  on  whom  Charles  could  thoroughly 
rely.  In  fact,  but  for  the  ability  and  loyalty  of  Ximenes, 
Charles  would  never  have  enjoyed  the  kingdom  of  Spain.  The 
coldness  and  ingratitude  he  displayed  to  this  minister  are  well 
known,  and  need  not  be  described  here ;  but,  dark  as  that  in- 
gratitude is  known  to  be,  history  has  yet  failed  to  record  its  full 
enormity.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  Charles  would  have 
lingered  out  another  year  in  his  Flemish  dominions,  but  fol-  the 
discovery  of  a  plot  hinted  at  in  these  pages,  and  fully  confirmed 
by  his  own  correspondence.  Whether  Francis,  his  ally,  was 
concerned  in  the  plot,  cannot  be  determined  at  present.  We 
must  wait  for  fuller  explanations  from  the  French  archives. 

It  is  weU  known  that  the  inclinations  of  Ferdinand,  his 
grandfather,  had  been  fixed  on  his  other  grandson  Don 
Ferdinand,  who  had  been  constantly  brought  up  at  the 
Spanish  court,  nor  was  it  until  the  last  moment  that  the  old 
King  could  be  persuaded  to  alter  the  disposal  of  his  kingdom 
in  favour  of  the  elder  brother.  The  hatred  of  the  Spaniards 
for  Charles's  Flemish  favourites,  the  delay  he  made  in  visiting 
Spain,  the  coldness  with  which  he  treated  the  Spaniards  who 
visited  him,  turned  the  affections  of  more  than  one  powerful 
nobleman  and  prelate  towards  his  brother.  As  early  as  the 
2nd  of  April,  1516,  Spinelly  mentions^  that  the  captain  of 
Perpignan  had  intercepted  a  letter,  in  French,  from  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Aries  "  to  the  Infant  of  Fortune,"  offering  the  assist- 
ance of  France  to  procure  for  him  the  crown.  The  rumour 
was  repeated  next  year^  by  the  Cardinal  of  Sion,  who  told 
Tunstal  and  others  that  trouble  was  likely  to  arise,  from  the 

>  April  11,  1517.         ^  II.  3300.         '  II.1S31.         '  AprU  VJ,  lol7  :  ■nVA. 
\0h.  I.  -N 


178  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [AD, 

Spaniards  refusing  to  obey  the  council  of  Flanders,  and  the 
Flemings  that  of  Spain ;  and  he  added  that  if  Charles  did  not 
go  shortly  to  Spain,  his  brother  would  be  crowned  in  his 
stead.  The  rumour  grew  stronger  as  time  advanced.  Yet  it 
might  have  been  set  down  for  an  idle  tale,  or  as  one  of  the 
numerous  fictions  invented  to  suit  a  political  purj)ose,  had 
we  not  the  King's  own  letter,  dated  from  Middleburgh,  7th  of 
September,^  the  day  before  he  started,  addressed  to  Ximenes, 
and  detailing  the  whole  conspiracy.  In  that  letter  he  tells 
Ximenes  how  he  had  heard  that  certain  treasonable  proposals 
had  been  made  to  the  Infant  Ferdinand,  and  that  he  had  been 
urged  to  declare  himself  governor  of  Castile  in  the  name  of 
his  mother.  To  anticipate  the  danger,  Gonsalvo  de  Guzman 
had  been  commanded  to  avoid  the  court.  Ximenes  is  directed 
to  seek  a  private  interview  with  Ferdinand.  He  is  to  make 
kno^Ti  to  the  Prince,  in  the  softest  and  most  insinuating 
manner,  his  brother's  resolution  of  removing  the  officers  of 
his  household,  and  substituting  others  in  their  place.  A 
minister  in  the  interest  of  Charles  was  to  sleep  in  Ferdinand's 
chamber,  in  order  that  when  the  j)rince  is  awake  he  may  have 
some  one  to  talk  to.  Ximenes  is  further  to  assure  the  prince 
that  these  measures  have  been  ordered  by  Charles  solely  out 
of  regard  to  his  brother's  interest ;  that  the  sole  motive  he 
now  has  in  visiting  Castile  is  to  provide  for  the  comfort  of 
Ferdinand,  for  whom  he  is  ready  to  sacrifice  life  itself.  The 
King  added  that  the  unfavourable  reports  about  Chievres  and 
the  Chancellor  were  wholly  untrue.  No  two  lords  could  be 
more  devoted  to  him.  He  was  now  with  the  fleet,  ready  to 
sail  on  the  morrow.  The  Cardinal  was  further  instructed 
to  employ  every  species  of  argument  to  induce  Ferdinand  to 
take  these  arrangements  in  good  part.  He  was  to  send  the 
Comendador  and  the  Bishop  of  Astorga,  with  whom  Charles 
was  greatly  displeased,  out  of  the  way,  to  banish  them  from 
the  court,  without  permitting  them  to  take  leave  of  Ferdinand. 
Should  it  so  happen  that  in  fulfilling  these  injunctions  Ximenes 
encountered  opposition,  he  was  ordered  to  employ  force.  These 
instructions  were  to  be  carried  out  to  the  letter,  and  kept  pro- 
foundly secret. 

It  is  not  known  what  reply  Ximenes  made  to  this  com- 
munication. We  infer  from  the  answer  of  Charles  that  it 
was  perfectly  satisfactory.^  Never  profuse  in  his  gratitude, 
he  thanked  the  Cardinal  in  the  warmest  terms  for  the  ability 

'  In  Cranvella.  "  Sept.  27.     Grauvele. 


1517.]  HENRY   AIDS   CHAELES.  179 

he  had  shown  in  fulfilling  his  injunctions,  and  regretted  to 
hear  of  his  ill  health.  How  he  repaid  him  when  he  arrived  in 
Spain  is  well  known ;  perhaps  Maximilian  was  not  far  from 
the  truth  when  he  exclaimed,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  heart, 
that  his  grandson  Charles  "  was  as  cold  and  immovable  as 
an  idol  "  (statue). 

But  important  as  was  this  voyage  into  Spain — more  im- 
portant than  even  those  who  urged  it  most  were  aware  of — it 
could  not  be  accomplished  without  the  aid  of  England ;  and 
to  counteract  the  policy  of  England,  to  ply  Maximilian  with 
every  inducement  to  betray  it,  had  employed  the  industry  of 
Charles  and  his  ministers  for  the  last  two  years  and  a  half. 
On  the  side  of  Friesland,  the  Duke  of  Gueldres,  his  irreconcil- 
able enemy,  backed  by  the  influence,  i^robably  by  the  money, 
of  France,^  was  making  continual  inroads.  "  Aspre  has  been 
taken,"  Tunstal  writes,^  "  and  the  inhabitants  cruelly  slain. 
The  town  of  the  Hay  (Hague),  because  it  is  open,  is  left  desolate, 
and  the  people  fled  for  fear.  This  business  delays  the  King's 
preparations."  In  terms  still  more  precise,  Charles  wrote  to 
his  ambassadors  in  England,^  that  it  was  not  possible  for  him 
to  provide  against  the  disturbances  caused  by  the  Duke  of 
Gueldres,  without  assistance  from  Henry.  No  other  course 
then  remained,  except  to  court  the  favour  of  England  as 
eagerly  as  he  had  formerly  rejected  it.  The  conduct  of 
Chievres  and  the  Chancellor  became  as  conciliating  as 
formerly  it  had  been  cold  and  insolent.^  The  praises  lavished 
by  Chievres  on  the  Cardinal  knew  no  bounds : — without  his 
aid  the  cordiality  between  Charles  and  Henry  could  never 
have  been  established  ;  his  master  knows  right  well  that  the 
chief  security  of  his  dominions  is  in  the  good  will  of  England. 
And  the  English  court  deserved  these  expressions  of  gratitude. 
In  his  utmost  need,  when  Charles  could  scarcely  keep  Flanders, 
much  less  take  possession  of  Spain,  Henry  had  advanced  liim 
100,000  florins.  He  wished  that  Charles  should  visit  England 
on  his  way — a  request  afterwards  abandoned  on  the  plea  of 
the  King's  infirmity.  Spinelly,  now  taken  into  confidence, 
WTote  to  say  there  was  no  hoi)e  "  that  the  Catholico  at  his 
going  into  Spain  should  pass  by  England  with  a  small  com- 
pany, sending  his  army  to  Falmouth;  for  many  the  which 
know  his  feeble  complexion  doth  continually  persuade  the 
same  "  (urge  that  plea).     The  sweating  sickness,  then  raging 

'   II.  3108,    3300,  3536.     Francis,  ^  July  G.      Moiiiiini'uhi    llubsbur- 

howovor,  denied  it  (3508J.  gica,  Abtln^il  II.  JJd.  1.  1(5. 

2  July  13,  1517.  *  II.  3337. 


180  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENKY   VIII.  [A.D. 

in  England,  would  have  furnished  a  valid  excuse,  had  the 
feebleness  of  Charles's  complexion  been  a  mere  fiction.^  One 
other  condition  was  insisted  on  :  that  in  repaying  the  loan  he 
should  also  repay  35,000  crowns  expended  during  his  minority 
by  England  for  the  reduction  of  Gueldres  and  Venloo.  This 
condition  he  would  have  avoided  like  the  former,^  but  his 
necessities  were  too  urgent.  "  If  Henry  will  not  consent,"  he 
writes  to  his  ambassadors,  "  to  lend  the  100,000  florins,  with- 
out including  the  35,000  gold  crowns  in  the  arrangement,  you 
are  to  agree  to  it,  but  not  readily."  The  sum  must  be  had 
under  any  circumstances,  for  delay  jeopardized  his  chances  in 
Spain,  and  Gueldres  continued  his  ravages. 

The  court  of  England  was  not  inclined  to  remember  old 
grudges,  or  seize  an  ungenerous  advantage.  His  ambassadors 
were  magnificently  received ;  "  partly,"  says  Sebastian,  not 
very  well  pleased  at  the  turn  affairs  were  now  taking,  "  to 
cajole  the  Catholic  King,  partly  because  one  of  the  ambassa- 
dors, a  youth  of  about  20  years  old  and  extremely  handsome, 
is  of  a  most  illustrious  family  descended  from  three  Emperors.^ 
His  father  is  governor  of  Flanders,  his  father-in-law  is  De 
Chievres.  He  is,  moreover,  the  boon  companion  of  the 
Catholic  king,  sharing  all  liis  secrets  as  familiarly  as  if  he  were 
his  brother."  Nothing  could  exceed  the  sumptuousness  of 
their  entertainment^  or  that  of  the  jousts  which  followed.  The 
jousts  ended,  preparations  were  made  for  a  banquet.  At  the 
head  of  the  hall  sate  his  Majesty,  with  the  Queen  on  his  right, 
and  next  her  the  Cardinal,  and  Mary  late  Queen  of  France  on 
his  left.  The  feast  was  regal,  the  display  of  gold  and  silver 
plate  enormous.  The  banquet  over,  the  King  and  his  guests 
repaired  to  another  hall,  where  the  Queen's  ladies  were,  and 
dancing  went  on  for  two  hours :  "  the  King,"  says  the  narrator, 
doing  marvellous  things  both  in  dancing  and  jumping, 
proving  himself,  as  he  in  truth  is,  indefatigable."  The  French 
ambassadors  were  not  present.  Their  conduct  seemed 
mysterious  to  Sebastian,  and  well  it  might.  Nor  were  his 
doubts  at  all  better  satisfied  when  he  told  them  it  was  reported 
they  were  negociating  a  league  with  England.     They  smiled, 

*  Charles  had  "greedy  eyes"  {avari  contemporaries.     These  qualities  have 

ocelli),  says    the    Venetian    envoy, —  made  him  unconsciously  attractive  to 

was   a  gross  feeder,  and   subject   to  modem  historians, 

dyspepsia.     Hence   ill-health  and  his  ^  II.  3142. 

fluctuation    of    spirits,    enhanced    by  ^  rpj^g  sieur  d'Aussy. 

hereditary   melancholy.      Allied    also  *  See  Nos.  3455,  3462 ;  and  for  the 

to  this  physical  and  psychological  un-  plan  and  arrangement  of  the  banquet 

soundness  there  was  a  tinge  of  senti-  the  curious  paper,  3446. 
mentalism  in  Charles  not  found  in  his 


1517.]  CHAELES'   VOYAGE  TO   SPAIN.  181 

and  said  nothing.     Eeally  this  reserve  of  one's  friends  is  very 
strange,  thought  Sebastian  ;  and  so  it  was. 

But  for  the  present  one  thing  only  was  talked  of;  and  that 
was  the  journey  into  Spain,  and  when  it  should  take  place. 
July  was   beginning  to   wane,  and  the   King's  preparations 
seemed  scarcely  more  advanced  than  they  were  a  year  ago. 
From  the  5th  of  June  to  the  7th  of  September  he  loitered 
at  Middleburg.     On  the  27th  of  August,  Tunstal,  who  was 
with  him,  wrote  to  Wolsey  ^  to  say  that  he  did  not  think  the 
King  would  leave  as  the  moon  was  waning  ;  though  Charles 
asserted  he  would  go,  even  if  it  were  winter.     On  the  7th  of 
September,  "  he  was  shriven  once  again,  for  he  was  houselled 
at  the  last  opposition  of  the  moon,"  ^  started  the  same  evening 
for  Flushing,  and  set  sail  the  next  morning.     The  weather 
was  fau",  but  the  voj^age  not  without  accidents.     Off  the  coast 
of  Winchelsea  a  ship  containing  the  King's  horses  was  burnt 
to  the  water's  edge,  and  all  hands  perished.     A  strong  wind 
from  the  S.E.  drove  the  ships  into  Plymouth  roads  ;^  not  many 
hours  after  they  were   becalmed.     On  the  19th  they  found 
themselves  off  the  coast  of  Asturias,  by  the  mismanagement 
of  the  pilot.     Charles  and  his  sister  Eleanor,  for  whom  the 
greatest   apprehension  was  felt,  endured  the  distresses  and 
fatigues  of  the  voyage  with  greater  magnanimity  than  practised 
sailors.     At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Charles  landed  at 
a   rocky  and  desolate   spot,  some   miles  distant   from  Villa 
Viciosa,  and  was  compelled  to  proceed  with  his  sister  and 
aU  his  company  on  foot  toward  the  nearest  village,  without 
refreshment   or   change   of  apparel.      No   preparations   had 
been  made  for  their  landing.     They  were  in  a  poor  country, 
without   horses   or  other  necessaries.'^     The  village  did  not 
contain,  says  Spinelly,  more  than  forty  houses ; — such  houses 
as   may   at   this  time  be   seen  in  Spanish   villages,  utterly 
destitute   of    the    comforts    and    even    ordinary  necessaries 
of  life.     To   increase   their   misfortunes,   the  wind   changed 
suddenly  to  the  N.N.W.,  drove  the  fleet  to  St.  Ander,  and  with 
it  all  their  bedding,  clothes,  and  furniture.     For  the  first  time, 
adds   Spinelly,   Lord  Chievres,  and   others  of  the  noblemen 
attending  on  the  King,  had  nothing  more  than  trusses  of  straw 
or  the  bare  earth  to  sleep  on.    But  the  loss  of  their  horses  was 
a  greater  inconvenience  than  sleeping  in  the  open  air.     No 
carriages,  no  means  of  travelling  were  to  be  had  ;  not  even  the 
ordinary  bullock  waggon,  the  horror  of  Spanish  travellers ; 

»  II.  3C41.       *  II.  3666.       *  II.  3692.       *  II.  3705. 


182  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

"  for,"   says    Spinelly,    "  in  that   mountainous   country   the 
principals  go  afoot,"  and  the  prevalence  of  sickness  in  the 
chief  towns  had  cut  off  all  intercourse  on  pain  of  death.     The 
shortness  of  provisions  compelled  the  King  to  set  forward  on 
the  third  day.     By  this  time  they  had  mustered  about  forty 
horses  and  a  few  bullock  waggons,  the  company  consisting  of 
200  persons.     Charles  mounted  a  hobby  lent  him  by  Spinelly  ; 
the  ladies  were  packed  in  the  waggons  ;  the  cavaliers,  by  twos 
and  threes  en  Groiqncr  on  pack-horses ;  the  majority  trudged 
on  foot.     And  in  this  shabby  array,  after  four  days'  hard 
travelling,  the  King  arrived  at  St.  Vincent,  60  miles  distant 
from  Villa  Viciosa.     They  who  know  what  travelling  is  in  the 
north  of  Spain  with  the  ordinary  fare  and  conveyance  of  the 
country,  will  readily  apprehend  the  fatigue  of  such  a  journey, 
especially  to  ladies  accustomed  all  their  lives  to  the  luxuries 
of  a  court,  and  whose  excursions  from  Brussels   had  never 
extended  further  than  Mechlin  or  Ghent.      "Nevertheless," 
says  Spinelly,  who  accompanied  the  cavalcade  on  foot,  "  con- 
sidering the   surety  and  sweetness   of  the   land,    every   one 
suffered  it  joyously  in  patience."     If  anything  could  render 
such  a  mode  of  travelling  pleasant,  it  was  the  remembrance 
of  the  alternate  becalming  and  hurricane  of  a  late  autumnal 
voyage  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay. 

To  the  royal  party,  compelled  thus  unexpectedly  to  rough 
it,  and  accustomed  only  to  the  rich  manufacturing  towns  of 
the  Low  Countries,  everything  seemed  as  strange,  wild,  and 
entertaining  as  it  does  to  the  modern  traveller.  The  peculiari- 
ties which  struck  Spinelly  have  remained  unaltered  after  the 
lapse  of  three  centuries.  "  The  country,"  he  says,  "  is  very 
mountainous,  and  abounds  in  chestones  (chesnuts),  on  which 
most  of  the  inhabitants  live  instead  of  corn.  They  have  also 
a  kind  of  oats  to  make  bread  of  for  the  nobles  and  gentlemen, 
though  that  the  worst  of  them  reckon  to  be  the  best  born ; 
and  marvellously  they  be  grounded  upon  the  nobleness  of 
blood,  seeing  that  they  have  been  those  that  have  conquered 
Castile  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Infidels ;  having,  by  reason  of 
such  opinion,  proudness  enough  in  comparison  of  their  goods 
and  riches.  Their  arrayments  be  small  jackets  of  coarse  light 
cloth,  with  bare  legs  and  feet ;  and  commonly  they  wear  long 
beards  and  hair,  being  well  made  persons  and  wonderly  light 
(lissome) ;  and,  as  far  as  I  may  conject  upon  good  informa- 
tion, they  may  be  compared  unto  Irishmen."  A  comparison 
evidently  referring  to  the  Basques  ;  the  exactness  of  which  no 
one  who  knows  the  two  peoj)le  will  venture  to  dispute. 


1517.]  CHAELES'   ARRIVAL   IN   SPAIN.  183 

The  King  was  well  receired.  If  during  the  voyage  he  still 
entertained  any  fears  of  his  brother  Ferdinand,  they  were 
allayed  by  the  rumours  which  met  him  at  his  landing. 
Ximenes  had  removed  the  Comendador  of  Calatrava  and  the 
Bishop  of  Astorga,  and  given  the  charge  of  Don  Ferdinand  to 
the  Marquis  of  Aguilar  ;  "  with  the  king's  consent,"  said  the 
rumour,  "  because  they  had  endeavoured  to  make  Don 
Ferdinand  king  of  Arragon  against  reason  and  the  will  of  the 
Catholic  king  deceased."  ^  It  was  no  concern  of  Charles  to 
set  that  rumour  right. 

Letters  from  Spain  came  very  irregularly;  and  we  lose 
much  of  Spinelly's  gossiping  and  amusing  correspondence  at 
the  time  when  it  would  have  been  most  interesting  and 
important.  Consequently,  of  the  subsequent  movements  of 
Charles,  and  the  death  of  Ximenes,  nothing  is  told  us.  On 
the  31st  of  October  Charles  was  at  Bezzarryll^  with  Chievres 
and  the  Chancellor.  These  powerful  favourites  are  accused  of 
keeping  their  master  away  from  the  great  minister,  and 
poisoning  his  ear  against  Ximenes.  On  the  8th  of  November 
the  Cardinal  died  ;  and  the  popular  tradition  of  Charles's 
ingratitude  receives  full  confirmation  by  his  treatment  of  the 
Cardinal's  memory.  Stile  writes  on  the  11th  of  February,  to  say 
that  the  King  had  appropriated  to  his  own  use  the  money  left 
by  Ximenes  in  legacies  to  his  servants  and  charitable  bequests, 
to  the  amount  of  212,000  ducats  of  gold,  alleging  that  he  had 
done  more  damage  in  casting  down  the  walls  of  Navarre  than 
all  his  wealth  amounted  to  !  The  Flemish  ministers  were  still 
supreme ;  no  Spaniard  had  a  voice  in  the  council,  with  the 
exception  of  the  bishop  of  Badajoz  and  Don  Garcia  de  Padilla.^ 
The  archbishopric,  estimated  at  100,000  ducats  per  annum, 
was  given  to  Chievres'  nephew.  Cardinal  de  Croy,  fettered, 
however,  with  certain  pensions.^ 

And  here  we  leave  Charles  for  a  time.  Charles  in  Spain, 
Maximilian  liors  de  combat,  the  two  ancient  rivals  remained 
face  to  face — England  and  France ;  France  crippled  in  its 
finances  by  the  war  in  Italy  and  by  the  large  sums  advanced 
to  different  statesmen  in  the  courts  of  Europe  ;  England, 
under  the  administration  of  Wolsey,  husbanding  its  resources, 
and  less  prodigal  in  its  expenditure  from  year  to  year. 

■  II.  p.  1169.  and  many  Spaniards  were  glad  tliercof, 

*  II.  37fJ4.  ^  II.  3937.  thinking  ho  sliould  follow  the  .yonng 

*  II.  387'i,  "  Thorc  was  a  lumonr,"  council  (the  Spanish  party),  ilowboil, 
says  Spinelly,  "  that  the  king  was  they  have  been  deceived ;  for  his 
amorous  of  a  goodly  gentlewoman  of  amours  be  succeeded  very  cold." 

the   queen  of    Arragou's    (Johanna)  j 


184  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

ENGLAND  AND  FRANCE. 

Hitherto  it  had  been  Wolse3''s  ostensible  policy  to  raise  up 
some  counteracting  influence  to  the  overgrown  power  of 
France.  Whether  he  ever  contemplated  an  invasion  of  that 
country  by  Henry  in  person,  may,  I  think,  be  very  reasonably 
doubted.  At  least  I  find  no  serious  preparations  for  such  an 
event.  It  was  his  object  rather  to  subsidize  the  continental 
powers,  to  keep  Francis  well  employed  in  Italy,  by  advancing 
money  to  Maximilian  and  the  Swiss,  and  by  supporting  the 
imperial  claims.  If  Charles  could  not  be  induced  to  league 
with  England,  any  aid  he  might  lend  to  France  was  to  be 
neutralized,  at  least  for  a  time.  With  a  league  consisting  of 
the  Pope,  Ferdinand,  England,  the  Emperor,  and  the  Swiss, 
Wolsey  might  reasonably  expect  that  the  efforts  of  Francis 
towards  aggrandizement  in  Em-ope  would  be  effectually  re- 
jDressed.  But  Ferdinand,  never  hearty  in  any  scheme  that 
did  not  promote  his  own  immediate  interests,  lent  no  assist- 
ance. Of  Maximilian  enough  has  been  said  ah-eady.  Leo  X., 
fearing  and  hating  the  Emperor  and  Francis  alike,  and  rightly 
jealous  of  the  proximity  and  influence  of  both,  oscillated 
dubiously  between  the  two,  alternately  flattering  and  betray- 
ing both.^  So  far  from  the  policy  of  Wolsey  meeting  with  the 
success  he  had  anticipated,  or  replacing  England  in  the 
position  it  held  at  the  death  of  Lewis  XII.,  no  other  effect  had 
been  gained,  at  the  close  of  the  year  1516  and  the  treaty  of 
Noyon,  than  that  of  tying  all  the  great  powers  to  the  chariot 
wheels  of  France,  and  rendering  her  the  sovereign  and  dictator 
of  Europe.  The  result  was  mortifying  enough  to  the  vanity 
of  Henry  VIII.,  who  watched  with  any  other  feeling  than  that 
of  complacency  the  progress  of  his  brilliant  and  successful 
rival. 

If  the  language  of  the  Venetian  ambassador  may  be  trusted, 

*  Of  his  meeting  with  Francis  at       descriptions  hj  eye-witnesses   in   II. 
Bologna,    see    two    very    interesting       1281,  1284. 


1517.]  UXCERTAIX   RUMORS.  185 

France  was  the  great  object  of  hatred  and  suspicion,  and 
"Wolsey  vras  only  biding  his  time  to  wreak  vengeance  upon  it 
for  its  repeated  perfidies.  What  these  perfidies  were  no  one 
exactly  knew,  though  every  English  minister,  Pace,  Wingfield, 
Spinelly,  and  even  Tunstal  fully  believed  them.  Eumours, 
indeed,  had  been  in  circulation  as  early  as  January,  1517,^ 
that  a  better  understanding  existed  between  the  two  courts 
than  warranted  this  belief.  Francis,  with  the  exception  of  his 
expedition  into  Italy,  had  studiously  avoided  giving  any 
offence  to  England.  His  conduct,  with  one  exception,  had 
been  uniformly  conciliator3\  He  was  fully  aware  of  the  efforts 
secretly  made  by  Henry,  and  his  virtual  transgression  of  the 
alliance  existing  between  them.  But  he  gave  vent  to  no 
expressions  of  anger  or  resentment.  Even  the  help  he  is 
supposed  to  have  afforded  Albany  was  exaggerated ;  and  this 
help  was  granted  in  conformity  with  the  treaties  existing 
between  France  and  Scotland ;  had  been  openly  avowed  to  the 
English  ambassadors  from  the  first ;  was  ex]3ressly  understood, 
and  therefore  could  constitute  no  just  cause  of  complaint- 
But  whilst  he  and  his  agents  wrote  from  time  to  time,  that 
France  was  desirous  of  a  closer  alliance,  it  was  believed  in 
England,  that  this  was  a  mere  invention  to  throw  England  off 
its  guard  : — "  All  things  are  full  of  deceit,  et  Judas  non  dormit," 
was  Pace's  comment  on  the  news.  By  the  4th  of  April,  1517, 
a  rumour  had  found  its  way  into  the  court  at  Brussels,  "  that 
Henry  was  intriguing  with  France  against  the  Emperor  and 
the  king  of  Castile."  A  few  days  later  the  report  assumed 
a  more  definite  shape.  "  Your  Grace,"  writes  Spinelly  on  the 
8th,  "  is  said  to  be  in  great  practice  to  restore  Tournay  to  the 
French  and  make  a  new  treaty."  On  the  15th  we  learn  from 
Worcester  that  the  French  ambassador  with  the  King  of  Castile 
was  spreading  the  report,  "  that  England  was  soliciting  a 
stronger  amity  with  France,  but  without  sending  regular 
ambassadors."  The  whole  proceeding  was  enveloped  in 
mystery  ;  the  rumour  rose  and  fell ;  it  was  variously  asserted 
and  denied  ;  how  it  had  arisen  no  one  could  tell ;  and  no  one 
seemed  to  have  any  certainty  about  it.  The  regular  diplomatic 
relations  between  the  two  countries  had  been  interrupted  since 
the  return  of  Suffolk,  and  had  never  been  regularly  renewed. 
Nothing  could  be  more  tantalizing  to  those  who  were  concerned 
in  discovering  such  secrets ;  no  bribe  and  no  intrigue  were  of 
the  least  help  in  unveiling  the  mystery.    Wolsey  and  the  King 

>  II.  p.  902. 


186  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY  VIIT.  [A.D. 

betrayed  no  change  in  their  words  or  actions.  For  months 
the  Venetian  ambassador  continued  to  write  to  his  Senate  and 
the  Doge  of  Wolsey's  inveterate  hatred  to  France ;  for  months 
he  congratulated  himself  on  the  effects  which  his  arguments 
had  produced  in  mollifying  the  Cardinal's  resentment.  It 
was  France,  the  Cardinal  repeated  to  the  unsuspecting 
Venetian,  that  was  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  troubles  of 
Christendom;  it  was  France  that  had  invited  the  Turk — ■ 
worse  than  the  Turk  himself.  It  was  the  restless  ambition  of 
France,  her  incessant  military  preparations,  her  warlike  dis- 
position, that  involved  England  in  continual  expense,  and 
disturbed  the  peace  of  the  world.  His  master  was  a  mag- 
nanimous sovereign  inchned  to  peace,  and  most  reluctantly 
compelled  to  abandon  peace  and  tranquillity,  and  adopt 
aggressive  measures  against  France  and  you  Venetians  its 
allies,  "  because  he  has  heard  of  the  determination  of  France 
to  molest  him."  ^  Giustinian  assured  him  that  Francis  had 
no  such  intentions  ;  if  he  had,  the  Venetians  would  do  what 
they  could  to  prevent  it.  Wolsey  desired  no  more.  He  wished 
to  divine  the  true  intentions  of  France  without  appearing  to 
suspect  them  ;  and  he  obtained  the  assurance  he  desired,  from 
time  to  time,  by  pretending  to  the  Venetian  ambassador  that  the 
republic  was  helping  Francis  to  embroil  Europe  and  disturb 
Christendom ; — they,  of  all  nations,  the  most  averse  to  war  ! 

Meanwhile  very  obscure  and  mysterious  letters  had  been 
passing  between  De  Crequy,  Dean  of  Tournay,  Dr.  Sampson, 
Wolsey's  commissarj^  and  Charles  Somerset,  Earl  of 
Worcester.  How  long  this  correspondence  had  been  going 
on,  and  whether  the  whole  series  has  been  preserved,  cannot 
be  determined.  The  first  letter  which  has  reached  us,  though 
evidently  not  the  first  in  the  negociation,  is  dated  11th  of  March, 
1517,^  at  the  very  time  when  Charles,  Maximilian,  and  their 
ministers  were  congratulating  themselves  on  their  excellent 
understanding  with  France,  and  were  signing  the  treaty  of 
Cambray.  The  negociator  on  the  French  side  was  no  less 
a  person  than  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  From  the  Duke's  letter 
it  appears  that  the  proposal  had  been  broken  to  him  by  the 
Dean  of  Tournay ;  ^  whether  or  not  on  the  Dean's  own  sugges- 
tion, does  not  appear.  A  hint  dropped  in  a  letter  of  Worcester's 
of  the  same  date  would  lead  us  to  infer  thrt  Henry  was  privy 
to  this  proposal,  if  he  was  not  the  author  of  it.^    Before  the 

»  Feb.  2,  1518.  3  II.  3007. 

'  II.  3006.  4  II.  3005. 


1517.] 


SECRET   XEGOCIATIONS. 


187 


24th  of  March  the  Grand  Master  of  France  (Boissi)  had  been 
soimded,  and  Worcester  was  then  waiting  for  further  instruc- 
tions to  see  how  the  project  would  be  accepted.^  Both  parties 
were  cautious  of  committing  themselves  ;  each  was  suspicious 
of  the  other's  intentions.  By  the  13th  of  April  the  matter 
brightens ;  then  Sampson  wrote  to  Wolsey,  that  it  had  been 
suggested  to  him  by  the  Dean  of  Tournay  of  what  advantage 
it  would  be  if  peace  could  be  made  between  France  and 
England.  Sampson  expressed  his  concurrence  in  the  wish, 
but  stated  that  he  could  not  undertake  to  communicate  that 
wish  to  his  employer.  The  Dean,  he  added,  has  twice  made 
peace  between  the  two  realms,  and  will  be  glad  to  do  so  again. 
Long  before  that  letter  Wolsey  had  been  in  communication 
with  Worcester  on  the  same  subject,^  and  Sampson's  remarks 
were  intended  to  disengage  the  Cardinal  from  all  personal 
risk  or  responsibility  in  this  intricate  and  delicate  negociation, 
which  now,  notwithstanding  all  these  extraordinary  pre- 
cautions, was  beginning  to  transpire.^   The  negociation  lingered 


>  II.  3048. 
2  II.  3127. 

'  Pace  -writes  to  Wolsey  on  the 
16tli  of  May  (No.  3247)  : 

"  Please  it  your  Grace,— The  10th 
day  of  this  present  month,  Mr.  Anchises 
Vicecomes  returned  omt  of  France  into 
Swissland  in  haste,  sent  only,  as  he 
saith,  for  to  speak  with  me  from  the 
French  king.  And  because  he  durst 
not  arrive  unto  this  city  for  fear  of 
trouble  by  some  of  the  Emperor's  ser- 
vants, he  hath  advertised  me  largely 
of  these  things  following ;  viz.  that 
the  said  French  king  himself  did  ex- 
amine him  of  his  going  into  England, 
and  abiding  there,  and  did  make  great 
inquisition  of  the  king's  grace's  man. 
ners  and  yours ;  whereunto  (as  he 
saith)  he  made  as  discreet  and  honor- 
able answer  as  he  could  devise  :  so 
that  the  said  French  king  (si  ipse  vera 
refert)  did  both  say  and  swear  that  he 
doth  love  the  king  above  all  other 
princes  Christian,  and  therefore  he 
doth  marvel  that  liis  Grace  is  alway 
contrary  and  adversary  unto  him,  and 
that  he  intendeth  never  to  offend  his 
Grace  in  any  manner  of  cause,  but 
provoked  by  pure  necessity ;  adding 
unto  that  these  words,  viz.  that  his 
cousin  of  England  cannot  desire  that 
thing  of  him  that  he  would  deny. 

"As  touching  your  Grace,  he  did 
ask  the  said  Mr.  Anchises  whether  it 
were  possible  for  him  by  any  mean  to 


obtain  your  Grace's  favours ;  where- 
unto he  made  (as  he  saith)  this 
answer — that  it  were  impossible  to 
induce  your  Grace  by  any  means  to 
do  that  that  should  be  contrary  to  the 
king's  honour  or  profit.  This  done,  he 
made  wonderful  inquisition  of  my  per- 
son, not  only  of  my  qualities,  but  also 
of  the  stature  of  my  body,  and  said 
that  I  had  caused  him  to  expend  two 
millions  of  gold  ;  but,  notwithstand- 
ing that,  if  I  would  help  that  your 
Grace  would  move  the  king  to  make 
a  perfect  amity  with  him,  he  would 
give  unto  me  monies  auri  ;  and  as  for 
your  Grace,  you  should  not  only  have 
peaceable  possession  of  the  bishopric 
of  Tournay  by  resignation,  but  also 
any  other  thing  as  good  as  that.  And 
to  the  intent  that  this  thing  might 
come  to  a  good  and  short  effect,  he 
would  grant  unto  me  his  safe  conduct 
to  come  surely  to  Milan,  and  from 
thence  to  be  conveyed  in  like  matmer 
into  France  to  his  person,  and  from 
thence  to  be  brought,  as  honorably  as 
I  would  desire  myself,  to  Calais  gates. 
"  My  Lord,  these  promi.scs  the  said 
Mr.  Anchises  hath  signified  to  mc,  by 
the  French  king's  express  command, 
ment,  as  he  saith;  but  whether  all 
these  things,  or  part,  or  nothing,  be 
true,  I  will  not  judge  (but  remit  tlio 
matter  to  your  Grace's  wisdom),  know- 
ing  that  the  said  Mr.  AncliiscM  liath 
Bworn  fidelity  to  the  said  French  kiutj. 


188 


THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII. 


CA.D. 


on,  but  we  Lave  no  further  means  of  tracing  it  in  this  state. 
In  June  ^  the  sieur  de  la  Guiche,  a  favourite  with  both  courts, 
who  had  been  in  England  before,  made  his  appearance  in 
London.  Sebastian  thought  it  mysterious, — endeavoured  to 
learn  the  cause  of  his  coming,  but  settled  down  in  the  con- 
viction that  it  had  no  higher  purpose  than  to  arrange  certain 
private  differences  !  A  month  after  Giustinian  began  to  suspect 
there  might  be  something  more  in  it.^  The  reserve  of  these 
Frenchmen  was  very  strange  !  But  it  looked  harmless,  espe- 
cially when  on  the  26th  of  the  same  month  ^  an  indenture 
appeared,  regularly  drawn  and  signed  by  the  two  commis- 
sioners, the  earl  of  Worcester  and  De  la  Guiche,  professing  to 
devise  means  for  the  redress  of  grievances,  and  providing  that 
suitable  commissioners  should  be  sent  from  both  sides  to  sit 
at  Calais  on  the  1st  of  Sej)tember,  make  compensations,  receive 
complaints,  and  save  the  merchants  the  expenses  of  the  Law 
Com'ts.  Sebastian  thought  it  was  all  right ;  the  same  round 
of  visits, — the  same  round  of  denunciations  against  France. 
On  the  26th  of  August,  formal  commissioners  were  appointed ; 
among  them  Sir  Thomas  More,  just  then  famous  for  his 
Utojna. 

By  this  time  it  had  oozed  out  that  Francis  had  offered 
400,000  crowns  for  the  surrender  of  Tournay,  and  England 
was  not  supposed  to  be  adverse  to  the  bargain.'*  The  ministers 
of  Charles  were  becoming  uneasy  at  the  prospect  of  a  more 
kindly  intercourse  between  the  two  nations.  They  had  hitherto 
done  their  utmost  to  keep  both  asunder.  On  the  14th  of 
September  the  report  reached  the  ears  of  the  Pope.  The 
treaty  was  now  pushed  on  with  greater  vigour  and  openness. 
Stephen  Poncher,  Bishop  of  Paris,  arrived  at  Boulogne,  and 
only  waited   for   advices   from  the   Cardinal   to   cross   over. 

But  this,  I  think,  undoubtedly  be  true       and  the  king  of  Castile  hath  made  one 


-that  the  French  king  would  gladly 
agree  with  the  king's  Grace.  And  this 
I  do  perfectly  know — that  the  said  Mr. 
Anchises,  the  Count  Galiace,  with  all 
that  sect,  doth  labour  that  this  thing 
may  come  to  pass,  some  of  them  being 
mediators  therein,  knowing  right  well 
that  they  shall  obtain  great  things 
thereby  if  it  come  to  pass.  Over  and 
above  the  premises,  the  French  king 
said,  that  if  the  king  were  aggrieved 
with  any  his  practices  in  Scotland, 
that  he  was  not  author  or  cause  thereof, 
but  his  predecessor. 

"  My   Lord,   we    have    now    here 
strange   tidings — that    the    Emperor 


new  peace  with  the  French  king,  con 
eluded  at  Cambray  the  11th  day  of 
April :  quod  si  est  verum  non  puto  fidem 
ah  lis  emendam,  qui  nuUam  hahent. 
De  rebus  Italicis  nihil  certius  habeo  illis 
qucB  proxime  scripsi.  I  did  give  none 
answer  unto  Anchises  but  this  only — 
that  I  durst  not  meddle  with  a  matter 
of  so  great  importance  without  the 
king's  commandment. 

"  Valeat  felicissime  BT"  D.  v.,  cui 
me  humillime  commendo  et  trado.  Ex 
Constantia,  16  Maij  1517." 

1  II.  3415.  '  II.  3520, 

2  II.  3445.  *  II.  3666. 


1517.]  UNPOPULAKITY  OF  FKAXCIS.  189 

Meanwhile,  true  or  not,  rumours  got  into  circulation  of  the 
unpopularity  of  the  French  King  and  his  exactions.  "  A  fat 
Cordelier  "  had  declared  in  his  sermon,  that  the  King  was 
■worse  than  Nero.  The  avocats  were  in  a  state  of  great  com- 
motion. The  university  of  Paris,  disgusted  with  the  concordat, 
had  displayed  their  disaffection  by  defamatory  libels,  and  their 
ofQcers  were  thrown  into  prison.  The  students  took  the 
matter  into  their  own  hands,  and  displayed  their  hostility  in 
their  own  peculiar  fashion.  A  farce  of  more  than  usual 
audacity  was  written  and  acted,  in  which  the  dramatis  persona} 
were  personified  representations  of  the  vices  and  abuses  of  the 
court ;  Le  Medecin,  Dame  Rapinne,  Lehon  Gensdarme,  Le 
Tout,  La  Poulette.  This  last  personage  was  the  daughter  of 
president  Le  Cocq,  and  wife  of  an  avocat,  a  lady  of  whom 
Francis  was  supposed  to  be  enamoured.  On  a  subsequent 
occasion,^  a  trumpeter,  sent  by  the  King  to  read  a  proclama- 
tion, was  surrounded  by  the  angry  students.  They  cut  off  his 
horse's  ears,  broke  his  trumpet  as  he  descended  from  the 
stage,  and  compelled  him  to  seek  safety  in  flight.  Next  day 
the  maj^or  with  400  men-at-arms  came  down  to  apprehend  the 
ringleaders,  but  was  driven  back.  The  day  after  the  proctor 
of  the  university  marched  down  to  the  parliament  house  with 
4,000  scholars  in  armour,  and  demanded  by  what  authority 
these  measures  had  been  taken.  The  cause  of  the  students 
was  supported  by  the  Constable  Bourbon,  no  longer  on  good 
terms  with  Francis ;  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  had  retired  in  dis- 
content because  he  had  been  asked  to  stand  godfather  to  the 
Dauphin  in  company  with  the  Duke  of  Urbino.^  Nassau  had 
followed  his  example.  These  reports  may  have  been  exag- 
gerated, but  they  are  too  numerous,  and  come  from  too  many 
quarters,  to  be  entirely  destitute  of  foundation. 

These  and  other  causes  made  Francis  anxious  for  peace. 
The  assurances  given  by  Wolsey  to  De  la  Guiche  at  his 
dej)arture,  that  England  would  prefer  the  alliance  of  France 
to  all  others,  were  cordially  received  ;  ^  and  from  this  period 
the  negociation  fell  exclusively  into  the  hands  of  De  la  Guiche 
and  the  Bishop  of  Paris  on  the  French  part,  of  Piuthal,  Bishop 
of  Durham,  and  the  Earl  of  Worcester,  on  the  English.*  At 
Henry's  wish  the  French  commissioners  crossed  over  to 
England  in  October.  The  sweating  sickness  was  then  making 
its  appearance  ;  the  King  moved  from  place  to  place  to  avoid 
it,  and  Wolsey  himself  was  in  ill  health.     Sebastian  writes  on 

•  II.  4154.       *  II.  3314.       '  II.  3711.       *  H.  3723,  3739. 


190  THE  REIGN  OF  HEXEY  YIII.  [A.D. 

the  11th  of  November:^  "Two  ambassadors  have  arrived 
here  from  the  Most  Christian  king,  the  bishop  of  Paris,  and 
Monseigneur  de  la  Guiche.  It  is  said  they  are  come  about 
certain  reprisals;  but  I  do  not  believe  that  envoys  of  such 
dignity  would  have  been  sent  on  so  trivial  a  mission.  The 
king  is  abroad,  and  keeps  moving  from  one  place  to  another, 
on  account  of  the  plague,  which  has  made  great  ravages  in 
the  king's  household;  some  of  the  pages  who  slept  in  his 
Majesty's  chamber  have  died,  so  he  has  dismissed  the  whole 
court,  both  his  own  and  that  of  the  most  serene  queen  ;  and 
only  three  of  his  favorite  gentlemen,  with  Dionysius  Memo  the 
musician,  are  with  him,  and  accompany  the  king  and  queen 
through  every  peril.  Neither  his  Majesty  nor  the  Cardinal 
will  return  until  after  the  Christmas  holidays,  and  then  only 
provided  the  plague  cease."  If  Wolsey's  expressions  of  dis- 
satisfaction with  France,  openly  made  and  repeated,  especially 
to  Giustinian,  the  Venetian  ambassador,  were  sincere,  we  must 
infer  that  the  negociation  now  lingered,  and  was  near  going 
off  altogether. 

When  Charles  and  his  ministers  heard  the  news  of  it  in 
Spain  they  were  naturally  anxious  to  prevent  it,  and,  if 
possible,  get  Tournayinto  their  own  hands.  But  Charles  had 
no  money;  he  was  already  indebted  in  100,000  crowns  to 
Henry  YIII.,  and  could  not  or  would  not  offer  any  equivalent  in 
exchange.^  The  English  court  did  not  wish  to  offend  him  ; — 
it  would  have  experienced  the  utmost  mortification  had  Charles 
once  more  thrown  himself  into  the  arms  of  France,  as  he  or 
at  least  his  ministers  felt  great  inclination  to  do.  So  the  real 
state  of  the  negociation  in  regard  to  Tournay  was  carefully 
concealed  or  sedulousl}^  misrepresented.  The  Archbishop  of 
Armagh  and  John  Lord  Berners,  the  celebrated  translator  of 
Froissart,  were  sent  into  Spain  ^  to  Charles  to  express  their 
master's  delight  at  his  safe  arrival,  to  proffer  mutual  com- 
munication of  all  secrets  between  them,  and  explain  away  the 
new  uegociations  with  France.  England,  they  were  told  to 
say,  had  sent  to  Francis  to  desire  redress  for  injuries  at  sea, 
and  the  latter  had  taken  this  opportunity  of  sending  over  the 

*  II.  3788.  in  it.     If  this  exijedient  fail,  and  the 

2  The  King  of  Spain,  says  Spinelly  King  my  master  be  determined  to  get 

(3872),  is  anxious  to  have  Tournay  in  rid  of  Tournay,  they  projiose  to  take 

his  hands,  but  fears  the  indignation  of  it  by  way  of  gift,  and  the  King  Catholic 

the  French  ;  and  if  they  may  have  the  to  acknowledge  himself  debtor  to  the 

French  King's  consent  by  the  means  King  my  master,  for  a  sum  of  money, 

of  the  grand  master,  according  to  the  by  antedated  bonds ! 
devices  at  Cambray;  they  will  speak  *  II.  4135. 


1517.]  AKTIFICES   TO   DELUDE   CHARLES.  191 

Bishop  of  Paris  and  M.  de  la  Giiiche,  ostensibly  with  the  view 
of  repressing  piracy,  really  to  urge  the  surrender  of  Tournay, 
and  offer  for  it  a  large  sum.     When  the  King  expressed  his 
unwilhngness  to  accede  to  the  proposal  without   consulting 
Charles,  the  French  had  assured  him  there  would  be  no  need 
of  such  a  step,  as  they  were  on  excellent  terms  with  the  King 
Catholic,  but  now  that  Francis  had  not  been  able  to  obtain 
his  wishes,  he  was  seeking  to  recover  Tournay  by  force.     The 
King  of  England  rejoiced  at  the  determination  of  Charles  to 
observe  his  oath  inviolably,  and  "his  virtuous  incHnation  to 
true  and  faithful  dealing."     In  return  for  so  much  confidence 
and  cordiality  he  was  moved  to  send  the  Catholic  King  warn- 
ing of  the  artifices  of  France.     "  When  the  ambassadors  have 
an  opportunity  of  speaking  with  the  king  alone  they  shall  tell 
him  that  Francis  is  not  much  attached  to  his  queen  (Claude), 
who  is  small  of  stature,  and  far  from  beautiful ;  and  as  she  is 
now  with  child  there  may  be  some  danger  in  her  delivery." 
They  shall  fm-ther  urge  that  Francis,  "  who  has  heard  of  the 
rare  beauty  of  the  lady  Eleanor  the  king's  eldest  sister,  and 
considers  her  prospects  for  the  succession  in   Spain,  is  en- 
deavouring to  prevent  her  marriage  with  the  king  of  Portugal  ; 
intending,  in  the  event  of  his  own  queen  dying,  to   marry 
Eleanor  himself.^    It  is  true  that  this  might  seem  an  honorable 

'  This  lady's  history  forms  a  little  king  of  Portugal  for  the  marriage  of 

romance.      She   was    eldest   sister  to  the    lady    Eleanor,    saying    she    was 

Charles,   and  attached  to  one  of  his  infortunate,   being   of    so  noble   and 

favourites,     Lewis     Count     Palatine.  virtuous  a  condition,  and  for  lack  of 

Whilst  the  King  was  at  Middleburgh,  youth  "  (she  was  then  not  more  than 

waiting  to  start  for  Spain,  he  snatched  twenty)    "  almost  compelled    to    take 

a    letter   out    of    her    bosom,    which  a    husband   of    48   years,    with    eight 

proved   to   be   a  declaration   of  love  children,  the  which,  before  those  that 

from   the    Palatine.     The    Count   was  God  might  send  her,  unto  the  crown 

immediately    dismissed    in    disgrace,  and  all  other  things  shall  bo  preferred  ; 

Charles  obstinately  refusing  to  listen  to  and  though  the  Chancellor  speaks  but 

any  intercession  in  his  favour  (IL  3641,  (qu.  not  ?)  of  the  conclusion  I  sujiposeit 

3646).     When  she  arrived  in  Spain  a  is  very  nigh,  and  that  in  such  case  the 

negociation  was  set  on  foot  to  marry  young  sister  (Katliarine)  shall  be  mar- 

her  to  Emmanuel  the  Fortunate,  King  ried  to  the  prince  of  Portugal.  .  .  .  The 

of  Portugal,  an  old  man  with  a  large  lady  Eleanor,  by  the  testament  of  her 

family.     It  had  been  intended  in  the  fatlier,  and  by  the  ancient  custom  of 

fii'st  instance  that  she  should  have  been  the  crown  of  Castile,  Rluiuld  Iiavo  for 

married   to  his   son,  the  Prince,  and  her  marriage  200,000  ducats;  howheit, 

Lady  Margaret  be  given  to  the  father ;  the  king  of  Portugal  demands  nothing 

but,  this  project  failing,  she  was  sacri-  but  the  ai)j)arel  for  her  body,  and  is 

ficcd    to    the    heartless    intrigues    of  content  to  make  her  a  fair  dower  iiiion 

Chievres    and    the    Chancellor.       "I  sure  land  and  rent."     On  the  doalii  of 

Biguify    to    your    Hitrhncss"    (writes  Emmanuel  in  l.">21,  she  seems  to  have 

Spinelly  to  Henry  VIII.,  2nd  of  April,  r(;turued    to    Madrid,    and    reniaiiiod 

1518),  "  that  this  afternoon  the  Chan-  there    when     Francis    I.    was    tukoa 

cellor  showed  mo  a  secret,  how  they  ])risoncrat  the  battloof  Pavia.  Accord. 

had  been  in  great  practices  with  the  ing    to   the   commou    historiuns,   she 


192  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   Yin.  [A.D. 

match  ;  but  if  it  were  carried  into  effect,  the  lives  of  Charles 
and  his  brother  Ferdinand  would  never  be  safe  from  the 
artifices  of  France." 

Similar  precautions  were  used  towards  Sebastian ;  to  a 
degree  so  far  beyond  the  apparent  importance  of  the  Venetian, 
as  would  almost  lead  the  reader  to  suspect  that  the  King  and 
the  Cardinal  took  delight  in  mystifying  this  worthy  envoy  of 
the  republic  of  fishermen.^  On  one  occasion,  when  he  hurried 
into  Wolsey's  presence  with  a  budget  of  French  news,  the 
Cardinal  with  unusual  graciousness  ^  took  the  envoy's  arm, 
and  carried  him  to  the  King,  On  his  assuring  Henry  that 
Francis  did  not  intend  to  attack  any  one  unless  provoked  by 
manifold  injuries,  the  King  laughed  and  replied  :  "  If  he  bore 
me  any  good  will,  he  would  not  esteem  me  so  lightly  as  he 
does,  by  wronging  my  subjects  and  refusing  redress.  I  per- 
ceive that  though  his  ambassadors,  who  came  here,  used 
language  as  agreeable  as  could  be  desired,  and  were  not 
ashamed  to  ask  peace  in  their  master's  name,  yet  on  their 
return  no  justice  was  done  to  my  subjects.  I  am  not  going  to 
make  war  upon  him,  if  he  shows  me  proper  respect,  and  I 
would  fain  distinguish  myself  against  the  Infidel ;  not  by  mere 
words  and  boasting,  or  levying  money  for  a  crusade,  and  then 

showed  so  much  commiseration  in  her  well "  (Ibid.  249)  ; — -Margaret  of 
adversity  for  the  royal  captive,  and  Navarre,  for  a  less  legitimate  reason 
contributed  by  her  attention  so  much  (Ibid.  291).  When  Suffolk  was  sent 
to  the  re-establishment  of  his  health,  into  France  on  Anne  Boleyn's  behalf 
that  Francis,  out  of  gratitude,  married  he  held  a  conversation  with  Margaret, 
her,  on  his  release  from  captivity,  respecting  the  Queen,  which  he  re- 
alleging that  he  had  been  better  tended  peats  to  Heuiy  VIII.,  so  gross  and 
by  her  at  Madrid  than  ever  he  was  at  indelicate,  that  if  the  revelations  she 
Paris  by  Louise  his  mother,  or  Claude  then  made  to  him  were  tnie,  the 
his  wife.  He  told  Wolsey,  however,  corresijondence  between  Francis  and 
that  he  was  moved  to  his  union  "  more  his  sister  goes  far  to  justify  the 
for  necessity  than  any  private  favor  imputations  that  have  since  been  pro- 
to  my  lady  Eleanor;"  and  said  still  pagated  against  Margaret's  purity, 
more  plainly  to  the  Earl  of  Rochford  Whether  what  she  said  was  true  or 
(Boleyn)  that  "she  was  one  of  the  not,  nothing  could  show  a  more  flagrant 
great  number  he  had  the  least  desire  disregard  to  decency  than  such  a  con- 
unto."  (State  Papers,  vii.  181).  And  versation  with  a  comparative  stranger, 
probably  there  was  as  much  sincerity  '  The  Venetians  were  in  veiy  bad 
in  one  assertion  as  in  the  other.  repute  in  England,  and  were  regarded 
Her  life  was  far  from  happy.  in  the  light  of  half  regular  traders 
Henry  VIII.  and  his  ministers  did  all  and  half  pirates.  It  is  possible  that 
they  could  to  sow  ill  will  and  distrust  their  opposition  to  the  Pope,  and  their 
betweenher  and  her  faithless  husband,  alliance  with  the  Turk,  added  to  their 
through  dread  of  her  influence  being  known  friendship  for  France,  con- 
exerted  in  behalf  of  the  Emperor.  tributed  to  this  unfair  estimate  of  the 
The  Queen-mother  disliked  her  lest  republic  in  the  minds  of  our  country- 
she  should  undermine  her  authority,  men  during  this  century. 
— "  The  Spanish  ladies  and  the  French  -  Sometimes,  in  his  more  con- 
ladies  (says  Bryan)  be  at  a  jar;  the  descending  moods,  Wolsey  allowed  the 
French  ladies  mock  them  every  day,  ambassador  to  kiss  his  hand, 
and  that  the  Spanish  ladies  spy  very 


1518.]  DEXrXCIATIONS   OF   FRANCE.  193 

doing  notliing."  On  another  occasion  be  rode  over  to  Rich- 
mond with  an  alarming  story  of  the  invasion  of  the  Tm-k,  to 
which  the  King  rephed  with  a  sarcasm  that  must  have  made 
Giustinian's  ears  tingle  :  "  His  Excellency  the  Doge  is  on  such 
good  terms  with  the  Turk,  he  has  nothing  to  fear."  Sebastian 
made  a  long  and  lame  apology  for  this  renegade  act  of  the 
great  republic,  msisting  upon  the  necessity  of  conciliating  the 
Sultan  in  their  unprotected  condition.  ' '  Write  to  your  Signory, 
sir  ambassador,"  replied  the  King,  "to  be  more  apprehensive 
of  a  certain  person,  that  shall  be  nameless,  than  of  the  Great 
Turk  ;  one  who  is  plotting  worse  things  for  Christendom  than 
Sultan  Selim.  As  for  me,  I  am  anxious  for  peace,  but  I  am 
so  prepared  that,  should  the  king  of  France  attack  me,  he 
will  find  himself  deceived."  And  he  added  this  expression, 
Incidct  in  for  earn  quam  fecit ;  the  pit  he  made  for  others  he 
shall  fall  into  himself.  After  a  while  the  King  said  :  "  Let 
me  ask  you  this  one  question.  If  the  king  of  France  acts 
sincerely  by  us,  w^hy  does  he  not  have  justice  done  to  our 
subjects  ?  Then,  again,  how  can  I  put  up  with  his  sending 
the  duke  of  Albany  into  Scotland,  w^here  my  nephew  is  king  ? 
The  king  of  France  sends  this  duke  into  Scotland,  who  will 
perhaps  put  the  king  to  death,  in  like  manner  as  his  brother 
died,  which  I  never  intend  to  suffer.  I  am  king  of  this  island, 
and  am  perfectly  satisfied,^  and  yet  it  seems  to  me  I  do  not 
do  my  duty  thoroughly,  nor  govern  my  subjects  well ;  and  if 
I  could  have  greater  dominion,  nay,  upon  my  oath,  if  I  could 
be  Lord  of  the  world,  I  would  not ;  as  I  know  I  could  not  do 
my  dut}^,  and  that  for  vaj  omissions  God  will  call  me  into 
judgment.  Whereas,  this  king  is  a  greater  lord  than  I ;  he 
has  a  larger  kingdom  and  more  territory ;  and  yet  he  is  not 
content,  but  chooses  to  meddle  in  matters  which  appertain  to 
me.  But  I  have  more  than  he  has,  and  shall  have  more  troops 
whenever  I  please." 

Candid  and  magnanimous  as  this  avowal  appears,  with 
the  exception  of  the  last  sentence,  it  is  certain  that  at  this 
very  time  the  King  and  Wolsey  were  on  a  very  good  under- 
standing with  France.  Even  Sebastian  was  only  half  deceived. 
He  could  scarcely  trust  his  senses,  when  he  heard  the  King 
talk  so  glibly  of  his  preparations  against  France,  and  yet 
when  he  looked  abroad  observed  no  bustle  or  note  of  them. 
Only  three  days  after  this  harangue,  Clarcncicux  returned 
from  the  French  court,  where  he  had  been  sent  by  Henry,  in 

>  Intended  as  a  hint  to  him  whom  it  conccrued,  that  Ilcnry  did  not  intend 
to  compete  for  the  Emjiirc. 

VOL.  I.  O 


194  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

company  M'ith  a  French  herald,  bringing  letters  from  Francis 
announcing  the  birth  of  the  Dauphin,  much  to  the  King's 
satisfaction.^  Yet  long  after  this,  when  the  terms  of  the 
negociation  were  known  and  almost  settled  on  both  sides, 
Wolscy  and  the  King  continued  to  hold  the  same  language  to 
the  bewildered  Venetian.^  On  one  occasion  when  Sebastian's 
companion,  the  Spanish  ambassador,  employed  his  choicest 
rhetoric  in  urging  the  crusade,  Wolsey  cut  him  short  with  the 
rejoinder,  that  this  was  no  time  to  make  preparations.  Then 
turning  to  the  Venetian,  "  You  are  in  a  perilous  position,  but 
more  from  the  Christian  than  the  true  Turk."  Sebastian, 
however,  began  to  guess  that  the  whole  was  a  scene  enacted 
for  the  behoof  of  the  Spaniard.  Nor  was  he  far  wrong  in  his 
conjecture  ;  for  when  t)ie  Spaniard  had  left  the  room,  Wolsey 
spoke  of  the  French  King  in  more  decorous  terms,  saying, 
"  If  I  perceive  the  king  of  France  means  well  to  his  Majesty, 
and  will  do  justice,  I  will  conclude  this  union.  The  king  of 
France  has  now  got  a  son,  and  the  king  of  England  a  daughter. 
I  will  unite  them  by  these  means."  Yet  even  after  this  he 
bad  not  dropped  the  disguise  entirely,  for  when  Sebastian  told 
him  in  the  course  of  a  subsequent  interview,  that  Francis  had 
alwaj'S  displayed  great  affection  to  Venice,  "  Don't  be  taken 
by  surprise,"  replied  Wolsey  ;  "  you  Venetians  have  often  been 
deceived  by  the  kings  of  France."  Sebastian  retorted  :  "Alius 
fuit  Ludovicus,  alius  Franciscus."  "  Galli  sunt  omnes  "  (rogues 
all),  rejoined  Wolsey. 

Hitherto  the  negociations  had  only  embraced  the  surrender 
of  Tournay,  and  the  terms  of  a  stricter  alliance.  The  birth  of 
the  Dauphin,  Feb.  28,  1518,  seemed  to  open,  as  Wolsey  had 
hinted,  the  prospect  of  a  closer  union  between  the  two  crowns. 
The  proceedings  were  inaugurated  by  a  letter  from  Stephen 
Poncher,  the  aged  Bishop  of  Paris,  expressing  his  anxiety  to 
further  peace,  as  he  had  done  in  the  days  of  Lewis  XII.,  and 
reminding  the  Cardinal  of  a  conversation  which  had  passed 
between  them  at  the  arrangements  for  Tournay.^  He  sent  at 
the  same  time  his  secretary,  John  Gobelin,^ — a  name  since 
famous  throughout  the  world, — to  remind  the  Cardinal  that 
the  Bishop  had  not  forgotten  the  desire  exjDressed  by  Wolsey, 
when  he  and  De  la  Guiche  were  ambassadors  in  England  ; 

1  II.  4014.  relation  between  them,  if  any,  I  have 

2  II.  404".  not  been  able  to  discover.  As  artificers 
'  April  8,  1518  :  4063.  of  this  kind  were  highly  favoured  by 
*  Giles     Gobelin,    the  celebrated       the  great    ecclesiastics  of  the  age,  I 

manufacturer,    was    contemporaneous       have  little  doubt  that  both  belonged 
with   this   John ;    but   what   was  the       to  the  same  family. 


1518.]  NEGOCIATIOXS   WITH  FEAXCE.  195 

that  if  the  Queen  of  France  who  was  then  pregnant,  should 
have  a  son,  a  marriage  might  be  contracted  between  him  and 
the  Princess  Mary.  The  King  his  master  was  aware  of 
Wolsey's  desire  to  further  the  amity  between  the  two  crowns, 
and  hoped  for  his  good  offices  in  the  matter.  If  agreeable  to 
the  Cardinal,  he  requested  the  negociation  might  be  secret 
and  sjjeed}^,  and  carried  on  under  the  pretext  of  an  arrange- 
ment for  Tournay.  Wolsey's  answer  has  not  been  preserved 
in  the  English  archives  ;  it  may  probably  be  found  in  France. 
We  learn,  however,  from  a  letter  of  the  Bishop's  dated  the  14th 
of  May,-^  that  he  considered  it  so  important  as  to  submit  it  at 
once  to  Francis  ;  and  both  concurred  in  the  Cardinal's  sugges- 
tion that  the  negociations  should  be  carried  on  through  some 
trusty  messenger,  in  preference  to  a  more  ostentatious 
embassy.  The  management  of  the  whole  affair  fell  into  the 
hands  of  Wolsey.  The  King  was  of  course  privy  to  it ;  but 
when  Dr.  Clerk  was  despatched  from  the  Cardinal  to  the 
Court,  then  residing  at  Woodstock  in  consequence  of  the 
j)lague,  the  King  took  him  apart,  and  strictly  enjoined  him 
that  "in  no  wise  should  he  make  mention  of  London 
matters "  (that  is,  the  French  treaty  then  negociated  by 
Wolsey  alone  in  London)  "before  his  lords."  These  lords 
were  the  Dukes  of  Buckingham  and  Suffolk,  Lovell,  and 
Marny,^  all  members  of  the  Privy  Council.  It  is  jn'obable  that 
Lovell  was  aware  of  these  proceedings ;  ^ — that  Suffolk,  who 
always  favoured  the  French  mterests,  and  had  a^^parently 
retired  from  court  when  its  measures  were  hostile  to  Francis, 
more  than  guessed  what  was  going  on,  can  scarcely  be 
doubted.  For  some  reasons,  not  clearly  explained,  disagree- 
ments had  arisen  between  Suffolk  and  Wolsey,*  to  which  I 
shall  refer  at  greater  length  hereafter,  occasioned  apparently 
by  the  fact  that  the  Duke  had  employed  his  influence  with  the 
French  ambassadors  to  learn  the  secrets  of  their  mission.  At 
least,  it  is  not  easy  to  put  any  other  interpretation  on  Pace's 
words.  He  states  ^  that  after  Suffolk  received  the  sacrament, 
on  Easter  day,  he  desired  Pace  to  hear  him  speak,  and  said, 
"  he  had  been  accused  as  untrue  to  the  king's  Grace,  as  well 
in  the  accej)ting  of  a  protection  offered  unto  him  by  the  French 
king,  as  in  putting  the  French  orators,  at  their  late  being  here 
or  afore  their  coming,  in  comfort  of  the  restitution  of  Tournay." 
This    Suffolk   denied.      In    a   subsequent   conversation    with 

'  II.  41GG.  «  II.  1248,  1256,  1257,  1258,  1278, 

«  II.  4121.  1289,  1331,  43  K!. 

»  See  ibid.  *  April  7.  No.  40G1. 


196  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.T). 

Pace/  he  spoke  strongly  of  bis  desire  for  reconciliation  with 
Wolsey,  "  confirming  with  solemn  oaths,  in  most  humble 
manner,  the  most  faithful  love  and  servitude  that  he  intendeth 
to  use  towards  jour  Grace,  during  his  life,  in  all  manner  of 
things  touching  your  honor." 

As  both  Kings  were  equally  anxious  for  the  match,  it  pro- 
ceeded without  further  impediment.^  By  the  9th  of  July,^  the 
articles  were  drawn  and  concluded,  and  nothing  now  remained 
but  the  formal  acceptance  of  them  by  the  high  contracting 
parties.  Bonnivet,  the  admiral,  was  sent  into  England  on  a 
more  splendid  mission  than  any  which  had  yet  left  the  shores 
of  France.  He  was  attended  by  the  Bishop  of  Paris,  and  a 
numerous  train  ;  thirt}^  gentlemen,  and  fifty  archers,  with 
wrestlers,  musicians,  and  tennis  players.'*  The  largeness  of 
the  company  occasioned  some  irregularity  in  its  arrival.  On 
the  28th  of  August,  the  Bishop  landed  at  Sandwich,  and  was 
directed  to  wait  at  Gravesend,  where  a  barge  -v^uld  be  ready 
for  his  reception.  The  rest  of  the  embassy  had  not  yet 
started  from  Calais.^  The  weather  was  stormy,  and  it  was 
not  thought  consistent  with  the  King's  dignity  to  receive  one 
party  without  the  other.  Even  then,  if  we  may  credit  Gius- 
tinian,  all  difficulties  had  not  disappeared.  He  found  the 
Cardinal  and  the  Bishop  in  close  conclave.  High  words  had 
passed  between  them.  The  arrival  of  the  Bishop  unattended 
had  awakened  the  dormant  suspicions  of  the  English,  that 
after  all  Francis  intended  to  deceive  them  ;  and  the  extreme 
secrecy  observed  even  now  by  Wolsey  shows  how  cautiously  he 
guarded  himself  against  such  a  contingency.  The  real  points 
in  debate  may  be  seen  in  Wolsey's  letter  to  the  King.^  It  was 
he  who  insisted  on  having  the  best  of  the  bargain ;  even  then,  at 
the  eleventh  hour,  he  wrung  additional  concessions  from  the 
French.  One  of  these  concessions  had  reference  to  Scotland ; 
Albany  should  not  be  permitted  to  return  thither ;  a  stipulation 
which  occasioned  the  King  of  France  the  greatest  annoyance. 

Sebastian  was  anxious  to  penetrate  the  mystery,  and  dis- 
cover in  what  state  the  matter  stood.     He  only  half  relished 

'  July  11.     No.  4308.  ^  ij_  4303. 

*  Whilst  it  was  proceeding,  Pace  *  II.  4356.     Their  names  are  given 

mentions  a  curious  argument  he  had  in  No.  4409. 
held    with    the    King,    whether    the  *  II.  App.  p.  1540. 

marriage  of  princes  was  regulated  by  ^  Ibid.     See  also   the   French  re- 

the  same  laws  as  that  of  private  per-  port.  No.  44/9.     It  appears  that  they 

sons  ;  the  King  holding  the  negative.  had  taken  alarm  at  the  offer  of  Charles 

(4275.)     Itis  worth  observing  how  the  to  prevent  the  marriage  and  the  sur- 

whole    history   of    Henry    VIII.   con-  render  of  Tournay. 
stantly  impinges  on  this  topic. 


1518.]  THE   FEEXCH  EMBASSY.  197 

this  close  intimacy  between  France  and  England,  wliich  lie 
had  formerly  urged  with  vehemency  when  he  saw  there  was 
no  hope  of  it ;  now  it  was  near  its  accomplishment,  it  seemed 
to  have  no  other  effect  than  that  of  throwing  himself  and  the 
republic  into  the  shade.  He  rode  over  to  Eltliam  on  the  18th 
of  September,  under  the  plausible  pretext  of  offering  the  King 
his  warmest  congratulations  on  the  peace  and  union  between 
the  two  crowns — (he  could  always  succeed  better  with  the  King 
than  the  Cardinal), — hoping  in  reality,  at  some  unguarded 
interval,  to  make  himself  "  master  of  the  situation."  Unfor- 
tunately for  him,  the  King  was  going  out  for  an  airing,  and 
he  learnt  no  more  than  that  peace  had  not  yet  been  concluded, 
with  a  hint  that  many  details  still  remained  for  discussion. 
B}^  no  means  baffled  by  this  disappointment,  the  envoy  hurried 
away  to  Sir  Thomas  More,  the  newly  made  councillor,  then 
attending  on  the  King  as  one  of  his  secretaries.  "I  adroitly 
turned  the  conversation — (they  are  his  own  words) — to  those 
negociations  concerning  peace  and  marriage ;  but  More  did  not 
open,  and  pretended  not  to  know  in  what  the  difficulties  con- 
sisted, declaring  that  the  Cardinal  of  York  '  most  solely,'  to  use 
his  own  expression,  transacted  this  matter  with  the  French 
ambassadors,  and  when  he  has  concluded  then  he  calls  in  the 
councillors,  so  that  the  king  himself  scarcely  knows  in  what 
state  matters  are."  ^ 

All  difficulties  were  arranged  at  last ; — the  voice  of  dispute, 
and  the  sharp  dialectics  of  dii^lomatists  striving  to  outwit  each 
other,  were  silent  before  the  public  rejoicings,  as  the  gay  trains 
of  ambassadors  in  strange  and  picturesque  array  passed  along 
the  streets.  On  the  23rd  of  September  the  Lord  Admiral  made 
his  appearance  with  an  enormous  cavalcade,  exceeding  600 
horsemen,  in  splendid  equipages,  attended  by  70  mules  and 
7  waggons  loaded  with  baggage,  to  the  immense  delight  of  the 
good  citizens  of  London.^  Such  an  embassy  had  never  been 
seen  within  its  walls  before.     They  were  met  by  the  Lord 

'  IT.  4138.  color   of    trussery    (bagf^ago)    of   the 

^  Hall,  who  is  not  to  be  exclusively  ambassadoi-s."     Chron.   p.   5U3.     And 

trusted,  for  his  sti-ong  English   anti-  again,  after  the  ambassadors  had  been 

pathies   to   everything   foreign    often  lodged  in  the  Tailors'  Hall,  he  adds  : 

pei-verted  his    judgment,  states    that  "  When    these    lords    were    in    tlieir 

the  embassy  was  "  accompanied  with  lodgings,  then  the    French  hardware 

many    noblemen     and     young    fresh  men  opened  their  wares,  atid  made  the 

gallants  of  the  court  of  France  to  the  Tailors'  liall  like  to  the  paunde  of  a 

number  of   80   and  more  ;    and   with  mart.     At  tliis  doing  many  an  Euglish- 

them  came  a  great  number  of  rascal  man   grudged,    but   it   availed    not" 

and  pedlars  and  jewellers,  and  Ijrought  (]).  59  I).   Evil  May  Day  was  not  yet  out 

over  hats  and  caps  and  divers    mer-  of  their  thought.s,  nor  tlie  hatred  they 

chandize   uncustomed,  all  under   the  felt  for  foreign  merchants  and  artiliccrs. 


198  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

Surrey,  High  Admiral,  with  IGO  lords  and  gentlemen,  on  the 
part  of  England,  resolved  not  to  be  outdone  by  their  French 
rivals.  The  mounted  procession  numbered  1,400,  half  French 
and  half  English,  30  of  them  being  the  Scotch  guards  of  the 
French  King,  accompanied  by  the  same  number  of  English 
guards.  On  the  20th  the  King,  attended  by  the  legates,  gave 
them  a  public  audience  at  Greenwich  in  a  magnificent 
assembly  of  all  the  nobles  of  the  realm.-^  The  Bishop  of  Paris 
delivered  the  oration.  He  enlarged  on  the  blessings  of  peace, 
and  the  happy  prospects  which  now  dawned  upon  Christendom 
by  the  union  of  its  two  most  powerful  Sovereigns,  concluding 
his  speech  by  demanding  the  hand  of  Princess  Mary  for  the 
Dauphin,  The  reply  was  delivered  by  Nicholas  West,  Bishop 
of  Ely,  in  much  the  same  strain,  and  of  course  with  the 
expected  conclusion.  This  done,  the  King  "  got  upon  his  legs, 
and  calling  all  the  French  gentlemen  one  by  one,  embraced 
them  very  graciously."  Then  he  led  the  French  ambassador 
and  Wolsey  into  an  inner  chamber,  leaving  the  legate  Cam- 
peggio,  who  happened  to  be  present  with  other  ambassadors, 
standing  at  the  door.  Sebastian  is  very  much  scandalized  at 
the  little  respect  paid  by  England  to  the  Holy  See.^ 

On  the  3rd  of  October  (Sunday)  the  King,  with  a  train  of 
1,000  mounted  gentlemen  richly  dressed,  attended  by  the 
legates  and  all  the  foreign  aml)assadors,  went  in  procession  to 
St.  Paul's.  The  mass  was  sung  by  Vv^olsey,  assisted  by  the 
Bishops  and  mitred  abbots.  Pace  preached  the  sermon.  The 
service  ended,  the  King  took  his  oath.  "  The  ceremonial," 
says  Bonnivet,  writing  to  Francis,  and  familiar  with  such 
displays,  "was  too  magnificent  for  description.  To-morrow 
(the  5th  of  Oct.)  they  go  to  Greenwich  ;  and  I,"  he  adds, 
"shall  be  in  great  glory  for  that  day,  as  they  desire  me  to 
personate  Mons.  the  Dau]3hin  a.8  fiance  to  Madame  the  Prin- 
cess." All  were  in  high  glee  :  feasting  and  rejoicing  prevailed 
everywhere.  The  same  day  the  King  dined  with  the  Bishop 
of  London,  returning  afterwards  to  Durham  House  in  the 
Strand,  from  which  he  had  started  in  the  morning. 

"After  dinner  the  Cardinal  of  York  was  followed  by  the 
entire  company  to  his  own  house  (at  Westminster),  where 
they  sate  down  to  a  most  sumptuous  supper,  the  like  of  which, 

'  The  Admiral  (Bonnivet)  was  in  —Hall. 
a  gown  of  cloth  of  silver  raised,  furred  ^  rj,j^g  heads  of  the  treaty  will  be 

with  rich  sables,  and  all  his  company  found  in  II.  4468.     The  marriage  was 

almost  were  in  a  new-fashioned  gar-  to  take  place  as  soon  as  the  Dauphin 

inent  called  a  shemew  (chemay),  which  attained  his  14th  year.     Mary  would 

was  in  effect  a  gown  cut  in  the  middle.  then  be  16. 


1518.]  BANQUET  TO  THE  AMBASSADORS.  199 

I  fancy  (says  Giustiuian),  was  never  given  by  Cleopatra  or 
Caligula  ;  the  whole  banqueting  hall  being  so  decorated  with 
huge  vases  of  gold  and  silver,  that  I  fancied  myself  in  the 
tower  of  Chosroes,  where  that  monarch  caused  divine  honors 
to  be  paid  him.  After  supj)er  a  mummery,  consisting  of  twelve 
male  and  twelve  female  dancers,  made  then-  appearance  in 
the  richest  and  most  sumptuous  array  possible,  being  all 
dressed  alike.  After  performing  certain  dances  in  their  own 
fashion,  they  took  off  their  visors.  The  two  leaders  were  the 
king  and  Queen  Dowager  of  France,^  and  all  the  others  were 
lords  and  ladies,  who  seated  themselves  apart  from  the  tables, 
and  were  served  with  countless  dishes  of  confections  and  other 
delicacies.  After  gratifying  their  palates,  they  gratified  their 
eyes  and  hands ;  large  bowls,  filled  with  ducats  and  dice,  were 
placed  on  the  tables  for  such  as  liked  to  gamble  :  shortly  after 
which  the  supper-tables  were  removed,  when  dancing  recom- 
menced, and  lasted  until  midnight. 

"When  the  banquet  was  done,  in  came  six  minstrels 
disguised,  and  after  them  followed  three  gentlemen  in  wide 
and  long  gowns  of  crimson  satin,  every  one  having  a  cup  of 
gold  in  his  hands  ;  the  first  cup  was  full  of  angels  and  royals, 
the  second  had  divers  bales  of  dice,  and  the  third  had  certain 
pairs  of  cards.  These  gentlemen  offered  to  play  at  mum- 
chance,  and  when  they  had  played  the  length  of  the  first 
board,  then  the  minstrels  ble^  up,  and  then  entered  into  the 
chamber  twelve  ladies  disguised ;  the  first  was  the  king  him- 
self and  the  French  queen ;  [the  2nd,]  the  duke  of  Suffolk  and 
the  lady  Daubney ;  [3rd,]  the  lord  Admiral  and  the  lady 
Guilford;  [4th,]  Sir  Edw.  Ne\dlle  and  Lady  St.  Leger;  [5th,] 
Su'  Henry  Guilford  and  IMrs.  (]\Iiss)  Walden  ;  [6th,]  Captain 
Emery  and  ]VIrs.  Anne  Carew ;  [7th,]  Sir  Giles  Capel  and  lady 
Elizabeth  Carew ;  [8th,]  Nicholas  Carew  and  Anne  Browne  ; 
[9th,]  Francis  Brian  and  Elizabeth  Blount ;  [10th,]  Henry 
Norris  and  Anne  Wotton ;  [11th,]  Francis  Poyntz  and  IVIary 
Fyennes  ;   [12th,]  Ai-thur  Pole  and  ]\iargaret  Bruges. 

"  On  this  company  twelve  knights  attended  in  disguise, 
and  bearing  torches.  All  these  thirty-six  persons  were  dis- 
guised in  one  suit  of  fine  green  satin  all  over  covered  with 
cloth  of  gold,  under-tied  together  with  laces  of  gold,  and  had 

'  Katharine  was  near  her  confine-  the  qneen  dowager  of  France  at  the 

ment  at  the  time,   and  took  no  part  adniinil's    k)(l^nn<j  "    (1541); — a    dis- 

in   these  festivities.     Envious  people  torted  report  of  the  supijor  lucutioued 

abroad  reported  that  "  the  king  went  in  the  text, 
privily  a  mumming  and  dancing  with 


200  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

masking  hoods  on  their  heads  :  the  ladies  had  tires  made  of 
braids  of  damask  gold,  with  long  hairs  of  white  gold.  All 
these  maskers  danced  at  one  time,  and  after  they  had  danced 
they  put  off  their  visors,  and  then  they  were  all  known.  The 
admiral  and  lords  of  France  heartily  thanked  the  king  that  it 
pleased  him  to  visit  them  with  such  disport."-^ 

On  the  5th  of  October  the  bridal  ceremonies  were  celebrated 
at  Greenwich.  The  King  took  his  station  in  front  of  the 
throne ;  on  one  side  stood  Mary  of  France  and  Queen 
Katharine ;  in  front  of  her  mother  was  the  Princess  Mary, 
just  two  years  old,  dressed  in  cloth  of  gold  with  a  cap  of  black 
velvet  on  her  head  blazing  with  jewels.  On  the  other  side 
stood  the  two  legates,  Wolsey  and  Campeggio.  After  a  speech 
by  Dr.  Tunstal,^  the  Princess  was  taken  in  arms ;  the  consent 
of  the  King  and  Queen  was  demanded  and  granted;  and 
Wolsey  approached  with  a  diminutive  gold  ring  fitted  to  the 
young  lady's  finger,  in  which  was  a  diamond  of  great  value. 
The  Lord  Admiral,  as  proxy  for  the  bridegroom,  passed  it  over 
the  second  joint ;  the  bride  was  blessed,  and  mass  performed 
by  Wolsey,  the  King  and  the  whole  court  attending  it.  These 
ceremonials  were  followed  by  a  series  of  entertainments  of  the 
most  costly  description.  The  bill  of  fare  for  one  day,  the  7th 
of  October,  is  preserved,^  and  enables  us  to  form  some  con- 
ception of  their  magnificence.  Among  the  sohd  viands  were 
3,000  loaves  of  bread,  3  tuns  and  2  pipes  of  wine,  6  tuns  and 
7  hogsheads  of  ale,  lOf  carcases  of  beeves,  56  of  muttons, 
3  porkers,  4  fat  hogs,  10  pigs,  2  doz.  fat  capons,  5  doz.  and 
7  Kentish  capons,  7  doz.  of  a  coarser  kind,  27  doz.  of 
chickens,  2J  doz.  of  pullets,  15  swans,  6  cranes,  32  doz. 
pigeons,  54  doz.  of  larks,  5  doz.  and  8  geese,  4  peacocks, 
18  peachicks,  35  lbs.  of  dates,  26  lbs.  of  prunes,  31  lbs.  of 
small  raisins,  32  lbs.  of  almonds,  4  lbs.  of  green  ginger,  4  lbs. 
of  marmalade,  3,000  pears,  1,300  apples,  220  quinces,  5|  lbs. 
of  long  comfits,  28  lbs.  of  small,  16|  gallons  of  cream,  16 
gallons  of  milk,  6  gallons  of  frumenty,  7  gallons  of  curds, 
367  dishes  of  butter.  Among  other  items  set  down  in  the 
King's   Book   of  Payments   for  the  occasion  is   the   sum  of 

1  11.  4481.  These  details  suggested  person  declared   the  meaning  of  the 

to  Shakspeare  his  scene  of  the  masqued  pageant. 

ball  in  Eomeo  and  Juliet.    At  the  next  =  Hall  says  that   mass  had   been 

page,  m  describing  another   pageant  previously  sung  by  Ruthal,  Bishop  of 

Hall   (p.  595)    says  :    "  Then   entered  Durham.     Probably  before  that  part 

Eeport  (Rumour),  apparelled  in  crim-  of  the  ceremonial  took  place  at  which 

son  satin  full  of  tongues,  sitting  on  a  Mary  was  present, 

flying  horse  with  wings,"    etc.     This  ^  ji_  pp   i5i4_5. 


1518.]  THE  MAEEIAGE   CEEEMONIES.  201 

1,000Z.  advanced  to  the  King  for  " playing-money,"  gambling; 
SOOl.  at  one  time  in  rewards  to  the  French  King's  gentlemen, 
1,829/.  lis.  in  plate  at  another.  The  sum  paid  for  "  an  hall 
place  "  (haiit  pas  ?)  in  St.  Paul's  Church^  for  the  marriage  of 
the  Princess  was  211. ;  for  "  the  mummery  held  at  my  lord 
Cardinal's  place  at  Westminster,  and  for  the  disguising  at 
Greenwich,  230L  4.s.  4(?."  ^  The  personal  expenses  of  the  King 
for  that  month  were  9,606L  2s.  dd.  as  against  3,085Z.  6s.  lOd. 
of  the  previous  year.  The  whole  court  during  the  celebration 
was  engrossed  with  one  unvarying  round  of  festivities.  In 
the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant  no  occasion  like  it  had 
ever  happened  in  England.  When  Mary  was  married  to 
Lewis  XII.  the  rejoicings  were  confined  exclusively  to  France. 
This  match,  on  the  other  hand,  afforded  Wolsey  an  oppor- 
tunity for  displaying  his  genius  in  splendid  pomp  and 
ceremonial ;  and  his  genius  was  as  conspicuous  in  these 
minor  things  as  in  negociating  a  treaty  for  managing  a 
nation.  To  the  King,  still  a  young  man,  ardently  fond  of 
personal  display,  and  more  fitted  for  it  than  any  one  of  his 
time  by  his  strength,  stature,  and  agility,  his  good  looks  and 
love  of  activity,  such  an  occasion  as  this  was  not  unwelcome. 
Nothing  more  was  needed  to  complete  his  happiness  than  a 
personal  interview  with  Francis.  A  few  solemn  triflers  might 
shake  their  heads  at  the  thought  of  England  being  once  more 
tied  up  in  reversion  to  a  foreign  crown,  or  complain  with 
grave  faces  that  "  these  gentlemen  of  France  were  very 
fresh  ;  "  ^  but  Katharine  was  still  a  j^oung  woman,  the  nation 
was  anxiously  expecting  the  birth  of  a  prince,  and  the  solid 
advantages  of  the  union  could  not  be  denied. 

The  old  councillors,  who  had  hitherto  stood  aloof  from  the 
German  policy  of  Wolsey,  openly  applauded  the  match.  Fox, 
who  is  reported  (on  no  better  authority  than  that  of  Polydore 
Vergil)  to  have  withdrawn  from  the  Council  in  disgust,  wrote 
a  letter  in  terms  unusually  warm  for  so  cold  and  reserved  a 
prelate  :  "  It  was  the  best  deed,"  he  tells  Wolsey,  "  that  ever 
was  done  for  England,  and  next  to  the  king  the  praise  of  it  is 
due  to  you."  ^  How  Katharine  herself  accepted  this  alliance 
for  her  daughter,  so  contrary  in  all  appearance  to  her  family 
predilections,  to  her  stern  Spanish  piety  and  asceticism,  we 
have  no  evidence  to  show ;   but  if  Wolsey  stood  high  in  the 

'  Although  the  marriage  was  ccle-  celcljration  of  it  at  St.  Paul's. — Ed. 
brated  Ijy  proxy  "in  the  Queen's  great  "  II.  ]).  1479. 

chamber  at  Greenwich"  (II.  44.80),  it  *  Hall, 

would  apjicar  that  there  was  a  public  ■*  II.  4540. 


202  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

opinion  of  bis  lojnl  master  before,  tbis  last  stroke  of  policy 
raised  bim  bigber  still.  No  subject  bad  ever  been  exalted  to 
sucb  a  dazzling  beigbt ;  omnipotent  witb  bis  own  King,  be 
bad  in  effect  tbe  wbole  sovereignty  of  Em-ope  at  bis  beck. 
Francis  professed  to  be  entirely  guided  by  bis  councils ; 
Cbarles,  more  distant  and  baugbty,  owed  to  bis  good  offices 
tbe  safe  possession  of  Spain,  and  bis  projects  of  tbe  Imperial 
crown  depended  on  tbe  continuance  of  Wolsey's  favour.  As 
for  Leo  X.,  Giustinian  did  not  exceed  tbe  trutb  wben  be 
stated  tbat  Wolsey  "  was  seven  times  more  in  repute  tban  if 
be  bad  been  tbe  Pope  bimself."  ^  In  fact,  wbilst  Leo  by 
turns  trembled  before  Cbarles  and  Francis,  and  intrigued 
against  botli  to  deliver  bimself  from  tbeir  oppressive  patronage, 
Wolsey,  independent  of  eitber,  bad  it  in  bis  power  to  make 
botb  feel  keenly  tbe  consequences  of  bis  friendsbip  or  resent- 
ment. Tbe  independence  of  tbe  Sovereign  Pontiff  was  but  a 
sbadow ;  if  be  got  rid  of  one  dictator,  it  was  only  to  fall  under 
tbe  more  galling  tyranny  of  anotber.  Tbe  two  rivals  for 
supremacy  in  Italy  were  as  tbe  upper  and  tbe  netber  mill- 
stone, grinding  tbemselves  wben  tbey  ceased  to  grind  tbe  Pope. 
Tbe  embassy  from  France  was  followed  by  an  embassy 
from  England  in  return.  It  consisted  of  tbe  Earl  of  Worcester, 
West,  Bisbop  of  Ely,  Dokwra,  Prior  of  St.  Jobn's,  and  Sir 
Nicbolas  Vaux.^  Tbey  reacbed  Dover  on  tbe  13tb  of  November, 
crossed  to  Calais  tbe  next  day  (Sunday),  but,  owing  to  a 
storm,  bad  tbe  misfortune  to  leave  part  of  tbeir  train  and 
tbeir  borses  bebind.  On  tbe  27tb  thej  left  for  Boulogne, 
wbere  tbey  were  received  "in  great  triumpb  witb  sbooting  of 
guns,"  ^  and  were  lodged  in  tbe  castle.  On  tbe  29tb  tbey  were 
attended  by  La  Fayette  to  Montreuil ;  tbence  to  Abbeville  on 
tbe  1st  of  December.*  Here  tbe  mayor  and  mercbants  of  tbe 
town,  after  a  solemn  reception,  presented  tbem  witb  tbree 
puncbeons  of  wine.  Tbe  Bisbop  entertained  tbem  at  bis 
fatber's  bouse  ;  "  wbere  tbe  old  fatber,  a  very  impotent  old 
man,  liaving  no  more  use  of  reason  tban  a  cbild,  met  tbem  in 
bis  gallery,  and  made  tbem  a  rigbt  good  supper."  On  tbe 
3rd  to  Amiens ;  wbere,  being  Friday,  tbe  burgesses  offered 
tbem  "  great  carps,  great  pikes,  trouts,  barbels,  crevisses, 
great  eels,  and  four  puncbeons  of  wine."  On  Sunday  tbey 
divided  tbeir  company  for  straitness  of  lodging,  agreeing  to 
meet  at  Senlis  on  Tuesday.^     Tbey  reacbed  St.  Denys  on  tbe 

'  Brown's  Four  Tears  at  the  Court  ^  II.  4163. 

of  Henry  VIIL,  ii,  314.  *  II.  4638. 

*  11.4593.  *  At  this  place  they  wrote  to  Wolsey 


1518.]  ENGLISH   EMBASSY  TO   FKANCE.  203 

9tli ;  ^  here  the  abhot  sent  them  right  good  plenty  of  wine  ;  " 
and  next  day  made  them  "  a  right  good  feast ;  " — for  their 
new  continental  friends  and  allies  seem  to  have  been  quite 
alive  to  the  national  infirmity.  A  league  from  Paris  they 
were  met  by  the  Bishop,  and  100  gentlemen  of  the  King's 
house.  Then  came  the  provost  with  "the  merchants,"  and 
the  courtiers  in  the  faubourgs.  As  they  passed  along  they 
were  met  by  "  divers  gentlemen  masked,  some  of  whom  rode 
amongst  us,  and  looked  upon  every  man  as  they  rode,  amongst 
whom  we  surely  suppose  the  king  himself  was."  Their 
audience  was  appointed  on  Sunday  the  12th,  at  the  palace  ; 
"where,  in  a  very  great  chamber,  appointed  with  blue 
hangings  full  of  fleurs-de-lis,  with  the  floor  covered  with  the 
same,^  and  seats  prepared  round  for  the  noblemen,  as  it  was 
within  your  realm,^  closed  round  about  with  rails,  the  king 
himself  sate  in  a  chair  raised  four  steps  from  the  ground, 
under  a  rich  cloth  of  estate,  with  a  pall  of  cloth  of  gold,  and  a 
cushion  of  the  same  under  his  feet."^  The  steps  of  the  dais 
were  covered  with  violet-coloured  velvet  powdered  with  fleurs- 
de-lis.  Francis  was  dressed  in  a  robe  of  cloth  of  silver, 
embroidered  with  flowers,  and  lined  with  herons'  feathers. 
His  doublet  was  cloth  of  gold.  But  on  his  head  he  wore  only 
his  ordinary  cloth  cap.  On  his  right  was  the  Eoman  legate, 
seated  under  a  gold  canopy,  then  the  King  of  Navarre,  with 
the  Dukes  of  Alencon,  Bourbon,  and  others  ;  on  the  left,  four 
Cardinals,  the  iDapal  nuncio,  and  ambassadors,  the  Chevalier 
Duprat,  and  a  crowd  of  Bishops. 

After  all  were  duly  seated,  the  English  ambassadors  made 
their  appearance.  They  were  conducted  through  the  press  by 
200  gentlemen  armed  with  battle-axes.^  Worcester  was 
dressed  in  a  vest  of  crimson  satin  lined  with  sables,  Vaux  in 

to  inquire  whether  the  gentlemen  that  ceived,  and  to  them  was  showed  a  fair 

be  not  appointed  to  go  with  my  Lord  young  child  ;  and  when  they  had  seen 

of  Ely  to  see  the  Dauphin  are  to  wait  him  they  departed.     The   fame  went 

upon    my    Lord    Chamberlain    (Wor-  that  the  French  king  at  this  time  had 

cester),  or  take  the  straight  way  home.  no  son,  but  that  this  was  but  a  color 

They  had  already  written  on  the  28th  of  the  French  king." — Chron.  p.  51)6. 
of  November  to  say,  "that  the  Dauphin  *  11.4052,4001. 

was  at  Blois  in  good  health."     This  is  ''■  Blue  tiles,  such  as  are  now  seen 

explained    by   a    story   in    Hall,    ex-  in  the  palace  at  Blois. 
aggerated,  no  doubt,  and  coloured  by  ^  The  oversight  is  curious,  for  tho 

his  peculiar  ]jrejudicc8  :  "  After  divers  letter  was  addressed  to  Wolsey. 
feasts,  jousts,  and  banquets  made  to  *  II.  46(51. 

the  English  ambassadors,  the   Bishop  '"  Tho     readers     of     Shakspearo'a 

of  Ely,  with  Sir  Thomas  Bolcyn  and  Homy  VIII.  will  remember  tlie  hul)l)tib 

Sir  Richard  Weston,  were  sent  by  tho  at    tho    christening   of    tho    princess 

French   king   to   Coniac    to    see   tho  Elizabeth,  and  the  rough  usage  of  the 

Dolphyn,   where  they   were   well   re-  crowd. 


204  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

cloth  of  gold  lined  with  the  same,  the  Bishop  of  Ely  in  his 
rochet,  the  Lord  of  St.  John  in  black  satin.  Then  came 
twenty  English  gentlemen,  superbly  dressed  in  cloth  of  gold, 
with  pendants  in  their  bonnets,  and  massive  gold  chains 
romid  their  necks  and  waists,  studded  with  jewels.  As  they 
arrived  at  the  middle  of  the  platform,  Francis  descended  from 
his  seat,  embraced  them,  and  ordered  them  to  be  seated. 
Then  West  rose  to  speak,  of  course  in  Latin,  the  sole  medium 
of  communication  on  these  occasions,  and  delivered  himself 
not  merely  "with  good  emphasis  and  discretion,"  but,  if  Hall 
may  be  trusted,  "with  such  a  bold  spirit  that  the  Frenchmen 
much  praised  his  audacity."^  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
ceremony,  the  King  rose,  descended  from  his  throne,  and 
embraced  all  the  English  gentlemen,  an  acknowledgment  of 
a  similar  compliment  paid  to  the  French  gentlemen  at  Green- 
wich. That  done,  he  withdrew  to  another  chamber,  accom- 
panied by  Worcester.  To  the  Earl  he  expressed  his  great 
satisfaction  at  the  peace ; — declared  that  "  from  henceforth  he 
would  repute  himself  and  his  subjects  as  Englishmen,  and 
the  king's  Grace,  oiu'  master  and  his  subjects,  as  Frenchmen; 
and  that  it  might  so  appear,  he  would  endeavour  himself  to 
learn  English."  When  Worcester  presented  his  letters,  partly 
written  with  the  King's  hand,  Francis  raised  them  to  his  lips 
with  becoming  reverence,  read  them,  and  put  them  in  his 
bosom,  saying  "that  he  had  all  the  letters  that  ever  his 
Grace  had  sent  him  in  his  own  custody  and  keeping,  and  he 
would  in  like  manner  keep  these."  France  had  some  right  to 
be  proud  of  the  best-bred  gentleman  in  Europe. 

On  Tuesday,  the  14th,  the  embassy  proceeded  to  Notre 
Dame,  where  the  Scotch  guard  "  kept  the  room."  Mass 
done,  the  legate  advanced  to  the  high  altar,  and  gave  a 
solemn  benediction  with  plenary  indulgence.  Then  the  King 
advanced  from  his  traverse,  followed  by  the  English  commis- 
sioners. A  cardinal  held  the  book,  the  legate  standing 
before  him ;  whilst  Francis  signed  the  oath  with  his  own 
hand.  "  Sire,  ye  have  done  a  noble  act  to-day,"  said  the 
legate.  "By  my  faith,"  replied  the  King,  "I  have  done  it 
with  a  good  heart  and  good  will."  Then  aU  went  to  dinner 
with  the  Bishop  of  Paris,  "  who  gave  them  a  stately  banquet 

'  What  occasion  there  could  be  for  mastery  of  the  Latin  tongue,  to  speak 

"  audacity,"  except  that  of  delivering  before  men,  some  of  whom,  like  the 

a     Latin    oration     before    a    critical  Cardinal  Legate,  Bibiena,  then  present, 

audience,  I  do  not  perceive.     If  that  were    the   corresjiondents  of    Bembo, 

is   what    Hall    meant,   it   did   require  and  gloried    in   the    coveted    title   of 

not  only  considerable  conlideuce,  but  Ciceroniani. 


1518.]  ENGLISH  EMBASSY  TO  FRANCE.  205 

served  solely  on  gold  plate ;  "  after  dinner  to  the  Duke  of 
Bourbon's  to  a  supper,  equall}'  costly.  The  whole  was  con- 
cluded with  an  entertainment  on  the  22nd,  at  the  Bastille,  "  a 
small  fortress  surrounded  by  very  high  walls,  turrets,  and  a 
moat,  constructed  of  yore  as  a  bulwark  to  the  city."  It  was 
now  near  mid- winter,  and  the  weather  stormy  and  rainy.  But 
the  French,  never  at  a  loss  w^here  taste  and  ingenuity  are 
required,  were  as  distinguished  in  displays  of  this  kind  then 
as  they  are  now.^  The  inner  courtyard  of  the  Bastille  was 
carefully  laid  over  with  smooth  timber,  and  covered  with  an 
awning  of  blue  canvas,  setting  weather  and  rain  at  defiance. 
The  canvas  was  painted  blue,  to  represent  the  heavens,  and 
powdered  with  gilt  stars  and  planets ;  the  galleries  were 
festooned  with  alternate  strips  of  white  and  tawny,  the  royal 
colours.  The  floor  was  carpeted  in  the  same  manner.  From 
the  centre  hung  an  immense  chandelier,  "  throwing  such  a 
marvellous  blaze  of  light  on  the  starry  ceiling  as  to  rival  the 
sun."  A  raised  j^latform  ran  along  the  whole  length  of  the 
apartment,  carpeted  like  the  hall,  with  benches  all  round, 
covered  with  gold  brocade.  Over-arching  the  platform  was  a 
latticed  bower  of  box,  ivy,  and  evergreens,  from  which  roses 
and  other  flowers  trailed.  The  King  took  his  seat  at  the 
table  on  a  high  dais,  covered  with  cloth  of  gold,  placing  the 
Duchess  of  Alencon  on  his  left,  and  next  her  the  Bishop  of 
Ely.  On  his  right  was  the  papal  legate,  with  the  beautiful 
Countess  of  Borromeo,  daughter  of  Galeazzo  Visconti ;  next 
her  the  Earl  of  Worcester,  with  noblemen  and  ladies 
alternately.  The  gentlemen  of  the  embassy  dined  at  tables 
on  the  floor  below  the  platform.  Dancing  commenced  to  the 
sound  of  trumpets  and  fifes,  and  lasted  until  nine,  when 
supper  was  served  on  gold  and  silver  dishes,  each  com'se 
being  announced  by  a  flourish  of  trumpets.  The  supper 
ended,  different  companies  of  maskers  successively  appeared 
in  quaint  costume ;  and  last  of  all  the  King,  dressed  in  a  long 
close-fitting  vest  of  white  satin,  embroidered  with  gold,  in- 
tfended  to  represent  Christ's  robe,  with  compasses  and  dials, 
the  meaning  of  which  puzzled  the  spectators.  Then  dancing 
recommenced,  and  the  whole  was  finished  by  ladies  handing 
round  to  all  the  company  confections  and  bon-bons  on  silver 
dishes.  The  entertainment  is  said  to  have  cost  the  King  of 
France  more  than  450,000  crowns.'^ 

*  II.  4G74.  Rawclon  Brown's?  curious  Appeuclix  to 

^  These  who  wish  to  pursue  these       the  despatches  of  Giustiuiau. 
details  auy  further  may  consult  Mr. 


206  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENEY  VUI.  [A.D.  1518. 

The  embassy  returned.  France  was  now  the  ally  of 
England,  but  for  that  alliance  it  had  made  great  concessions 
and  sacrifices.  It  had  i^urchased  its  own  property  from 
England  at  a  heavy  cost.  It  had  paid  dearly  for  a  possession 
which  England  would  not  have  retained  at  any  price.  It  had 
agreed  to  desist  from  all  interference  in  the  affairs  of  Scotland, 
its  most  steady  and  ancient  ally.  The  wings  of  its  ambition 
were  clipped.  So  bitter,  and  apparently  so  unpopular,  had 
the  military  career  of  Francis  proved  to  many  of  his  subjects, 
that  they  welcomed  the  friendship  of  England  with  every 
demonstration  of  delight.  The  wheel  had  turned  round,  and 
Wolsey  had  fulfilled  his  promise.  He  had  united  the  two 
nations.  Once  more  England  stood  arbiter  among  the 
sovereigns  of  Europe  ; — without  a  blow ;  by  the  mere  force 
of  Wolsey's  policy.  His  triumph  was  complete  ;  his  enemies 
had  not  a  word  to  say. 


(     207     ) 


CHAPTER  VII. 


SCOTCH   AFFAIRS. 


In  the  last  four  chapters  we  have  traced  at  some  length  the 
story  of  our  diplomatic  relations  with  foreign  Powers  at  a 
period  of  special  interest  in  continental  history.  The  internal 
policy  of  our  own  country  during  the  same  period  is,  with  one 
exception,  of  much  less  interest  and  importance.  That  excep- 
tion relates  to  the  flight  of  Queen  Margaret  from  Scotland, 
and  her  refuge  in  England,  told  in  the  State  papers  with  a 
minuteness  that  forms  a  striking  contrast  to  the  meagre  and 
unsatisfactory  narrative  of  Scotch  historians  in  general.  To 
follow  the  documents  it  will  be  necessary  for  the  reader  to 
bear  in  mind  the  following  events. 

By  the  death  of  the  accomplished  Alexander  Stuart  ^  on 
the  field  of  Flodden,  the  metropolitan  see  of  St.  Andrew's  fell 
vacant.  Three  competitors  started  up  for  the  vacancy: 
Gawin  Douglas,  the  translator  of  Virgil,  supported  by  the 
influence  of  England ;  John  Hepburn,  Prior  of  St.  Andrew's  ; 
and  Andrew  Forman,  Bishop  of  Murray,  whose  name  is  of 
frequent  occurrence  in  the  Scotch  diplomatic  correspondence. 
The  Bishop  of  Murray  was  higher  in  favour  than  either  of  his 
rivals  at  the  Papal  and  the  French  courts.  Julius  II.  had 
promised  him  a  cardinalate.^  Lewis  XII.  had  created  him 
Archbishoj^  of  Bourges,  and  emj^loyed  him  as  his  mediator 
with  the  Pope.  The  claims  of  Hejiburn  were,  in  the  first 
instance,  espoused  by  Alexander  Hume,  Chamberlain  of 
Scotland :  subsequently  Hume  took  part  with  Forman,  and 
thus  drew  down  upon  himself  the  resentment  of  Hepburn. 
Even  before  the  death  of  James  IV.  fierce  dissensions  had 
broken  out  among  the  hierarchy  of  that  country ;  now,  after 
their  preponderance  had  been  greatly  augmented  by  the  fatal 

'  He  was  the   pupil  of   Erasmns,  read  without  holding  his  book  to  the 

who    has    embalmed    his    memory   in  very    end  of    his    nose.     Wliat   other 

some  of  tlio  most  charminf^  passages  fate  could  ho  cxi)eot  iii  such  a  m6Ue 

of   his  Adagia.     Erasmus  tells  us  ho  as  that  at  Flodden  ? 

was  so  near-sighted  that  he  could  not  ^  II.  77G. 


208  THE   EEIGN   OF  HENRY  VIIT.  [A.D. 

destruction  of  the  nobility  at  Flodden  and  the  minority  of 
James  V.,  the  power  and  rights  of  the  Crown  were  set  at 
defiance.  The  Church  presented  a  scene  of  rapine  and  dis- 
order darker  even  than  the  rest  of  that  dark  kingdom. 
"Every  man  takes  up  abbacies  that  may.  .  .  .  They  tarry 
not  quhilk  benefices  be  vacant ;  they  take  them  or  {i.e.  before) 
they  fall ;  for  they  tyne  (lose)  the  virtue  if  the}^  touch  ground  " — 
is  the  quaint  and  sarcastic  remark  of  Inglis,  Margaret's 
secretary.^ 

Such  was  the  state  of  things  when  Margaret,  four  months 
after  the  birth  of  her  posthumous  son,^  and  within  a  year  of 
the  death  of  James  IV.,^  married  her  second  husband,  Archi- 
bald Douglas,  Earl  of  Angus,  a  handsome  young  man, — 
"  vehementi  quodam  animi  impetu  concitata,"  remarks  Leslie, 
— a  remark  which  characterized  the  whole  family  in  these 
affairs.  She  lost  by  her  marriage  the  little  remains  of  authority 
she  had  nominally  retained  over  her  proud  and  impetuous 
subjects; — a  result  to  which  she  herself  contributed  by  ad- 
vancing the  interests  of  her  husband's  relatives.  James  Beton, 
Archbishop  of  Glasgow,  exasperated  at  the  loss  of  the  chancel- 
lorship, threw  himself  immediately  into  opposition,  and  marched 
upon  Edinburgh.  Margaret  fled  with  Angus  to  Stirling. 
She  was  in  great  distress, — she  had  pawned  her  jewels,  and 
lost  her  friends.  Whether  Henry  ever  contemplated  making 
an  ofl^er  of  her  hand  during  her  widowhood  to  Lewis  XIL,  as 
Dacre  proposed,  we  have  no  means  of  deciding.  It  is  not 
unlikely.     When  she  was  in  England  Wolsey  was  heard  to 

'  II.  50.  this  hard  man,  who  burnt  villages  on 
^  This  son  was  born  April  30, 1514.  the  borders  by  the  score,  and  reckoned 
Her  troubles  had  already  begun,  and  up  the  death  or  imprisonment  of 
were  not  entirely  consequent  upon  her  hundreds  of  poor  inhabitants  with  as 
second  marriage,  as  some  have  repre-  little  compunction  as  if  they  had  been 
sented.  This  is  clear  from  Lord  so  many  sheep  or  oxen,  had  a  soft  and 
Dacre's  letter  to  Henry  VIII.  (1.4951.)  romantic  spot  in  his  heart.  Inaletter 
He  writes  that  in  the  parliament  held  to  Wolsey  about  a  certain  Lady 
in  April,  it  had  been  enacted,  that  all  Pickering,  whom  he  wished  to  marry, 
fortresses  in  Scotland  should  be  de-  he  says :  "  She  has  only  40L  a  year, 
livered  to  the  three  estates, — a  blow  her  goods  are  of  little  value,  her 
apparently  aimed  at  Stirling ; — that  a  father's  lands  will  descend  to  her 
bill  for  Albany's  recall  had  been  read,  children"  (she  was  a  widow).  "The 
but  was  not  concluded.  The  Scotch  letter  I  wrote  unto  your  Grace  con- 
had  already  been  in  correspondence  cerning  her  was  more  for  love  than 
with  the  Duke.  Then,  adds  Dacre,  in  any  profit;  and  that  she  is  young, 
the  cold,  grim,  and  granite  policy  of  and  that  I  have  but  one  son,  and 
the  times :  "  The  queen  has  taken  her  am  desirous  to  have  more,  so  it  will 
chamber  in  Stirling  Castle ;  if  the  stand  with  the  pleasure  of  God."  II. 
French   king    (Lewis  XII.)  please   to  4541. 

marry  her   he   can   have   her."     The  ^  She  married   Angus,  August  6, 

letter    is    dated   April    8.      Anne   of  1514. 
Brittany  died  January  9  before.     Yet 


1514-15.]  QUEEN  MAEGAEET'S  DIFFICULTIES.  209 

say  "  that  he  tvouIcT  have  resigned  the  Cardinars  hat,  or  lost 
a  finger  of  his  right  hand,  to  have  married  her  to  the  Emperor 
Maximilian."  ^  Some  sort  of  argument  was^in  fact  set  up 
for  that  purpose.  Scotland,  it  was  pretended,  was  under  an 
interdict  at  the  time  of  her  marriage,  and  so  her  union  with 
Angus  was  null  and  void.^  But  in  Margaret,  as  in  Mary, 
Henry  found  a  will  as  imperious  as  his  own  in  matters  of  the 
heart.  Where  these  Tudors  set  their  affections  there  they 
gave  their  hands,  regardless  of  all  considerations  but  one  ; 
and  from  their  resolutions,  once  taken,  nothing  could  divert 
them. .  In  this  state  of  uncertainty  she  received  a  letter  from 
Hem-y  on  the  22nd  of  November.^  She  was  then  at  war  with 
her  refractory  subjects.  Hepburn  had  laid  siege  to  the  castle 
of  St.  Andrew's  ;  she  herself  was  daily  expecting  to  be  attacked 
in  Stirling  castle.  Hume,  the  Chamberlain,  "  the  post  of  this 
conspiration,"  usurped  all  authority,  and  treated  her  and  her 
adherents  as  rebels.  She  desired  Henry  to  send  an  army  into 
Scotland,  and  keep  him  well  employed ;  from  the  rest  she 
could  defend  herself  till  aid  came  from  England.  She  beirs 
to  hear  from  her  brother  every  month:  "and  gif  my  party 
adversary  counterfeits  ohy  letters  in  my  name,  or  gif  they 
compel  me  to  write  to  you  for  concord,  the  subscription  shall 
be  but  thus  :  Margaret  R.,  na  mare."  "*  That  would  show  she 
had  written  under  compulsion. 

The  expected  aid  did  not  come  ;  she  was  taken  a  few  days 
after  from  Stirling  to  Edinburgh  by  her  enemies,  Arran  and 
the  Chamberlain ;  escaped  with  Angus  on  the  21st  of  Novem- 
ber ;  ^  threw  herself  again  into  Stirling,  and  was  closely 
besieged  by  the  Prior  of  St.  Andrew's.  So  matters  stood  at 
the  commencement  of  1515.  Both  parties  were  now  anxiously 
expecting  the  arrival  of  Albany.  It  had  been  part  of  the 
pm-pose  of  Suffolk  and  his  fellows,  in  their  embassy  of  con- 
gratulation, to  prevent,  if  possible,  the  Duke  from  receiving 
aid  from  France.  In  this  they  were  unsuccessful.  The  design 
of  Suffolk  to  marry  the  French  Queen  placed  him  at  once  in 
a  false  position  at  the  French  court,  and  tied  his  hands. 
Francis  and  his  ministers  professed  utter  ignorance  of  any 
design  upon  the  part  of  Albany  to  cross  the  sea.^  There  was 
no  means  of  meeting  such  an  allegation.  The  English  am- 
bassadors, however  well  convinced  of  the  fact,  had  only 
uncertain  rumours  to  oppose.    The  Duke's  steps  were  carefully 

'  II.  186.3.  ■•  Instead   of,    Your  loving   sister, 

II.  1 845.  Margaret  R. 

3  I.  5614.  *  II.  5641.  "  II.  105. 

VOL.  I.  '  P 


210  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  YHI.  [A.D. 

dogged  by  English  spies ;  the  port  from  which  he  was  to  sail 
well  known  ;  and  English  vessels  hovered  about  the  passage 
to  intercept  hinj.^  Francis  himself,  more  young  and  confident 
than  his  ministers,  made  no  concealment  of  his  intentions. 
AVhen  Suffolk  and  the  rest  proposed  to  conclude  the  peace 
between  the  two  crowns  on  condition  that  Francis  should 
agree  by  a  secret  article  not  to  send  Albany  to  Scotland,  he 
proudly  refused.  The  altercation  (it  was  little  less)  lasted 
two  hours,  but  the  King's  resolution  remained  unshaken.  He 
had  promised  the  Scots  to  send  Albany,  and  he  could  not  now 
retract  his  promise  with  honour.  They  urged,  "  he  was  the 
most  suspect  person  that  could  be  sent,  for  he  not  only  pre- 
tended to  the  crown  of  Scotland,  but  had  been  invited  by  their 
master's  enemies."  The  only  satisfaction  they  could  obtain 
was  a  promise  that  Francis  would  undertake  that  the  Duke 
should  do  no  injmy  to  England ;  and  if  he  failed  to  appease 
the  disturbances  in  three  or  four  months,  he  should  be  recalled. 
The  promise  to  send  Albany,  the  King  urged,  had  been  made 
to  the  Scots  by  Lewis  XII.,  and  therefore  his  successor  was 
bound  to  perform  it.^ 

His  ministers,  more  wary,  and  conscious  of  the  fact  that 
Henry  was  already  actively  interposing  in  the  affairs  of 
Scotland,  offered  to  stop  Albany  for  three  months,  if  Henry 
in  the  meantime  would  engage  to  give  no  aid  to  his  sister,  but 
allow  both  parties  in  Scotland  to  settle  their  differences  by 
themselves.  The  English  replied :  They  had  no  authority  to 
make  such  an  agreement,  and  would  not  make  it  if  they  had  ; 
but  if  Francis  sent  the  Duke  to  aid  one  party,  their  master 
"would  send  another  as  big  as  he"  to  help  his  sister.  The 
French  said  :  England  has  already  prepared  ships  which  are 
now  cruising  on  the  coast ;  and  as  they  cannot  be  intended 
against  France,  whose  alliance  England  is  now  seeking,  they 
must  be  intended  against  Scotland.  The  ambassadors  replied, 
about  that  matter  they  knew  nothing.^ 

These  remarks  will  explain  a  number  of  difficulties  which 
have  hitherto  puzzled  English  and  Scotch  historians.  It  has 
appeared  strange  that  in  so  critical  a  period  Henry  should 
have  rendered  such  ineffectual  aid  to  Margaret.  Her  mes- 
sengers were  all  this  time  in  England  urging,  in  the  strongest 
terms,  a  speedy  and  effective  demonstration.  That  seemed 
the  wisest  policy.  If  it  were  only  known  that  England  was 
making  preparations  to  advance  to  Margaret's  relief,  it  would 

1  II.  287.  «  II.  296.  3  II,  304. 


1515.]  AREIVAL   OF   ALBANY.  211 

inspire  her  friends  with  confidence,  and  intimidate  her  foes. 
Neither  the  Queen's  hfe  nor  her  husband's  was  safe  in  a 
country  abandoned  to  furious  civil  strife,  and  never  nice  in 
shedding  royal  blood.  In  January,  Hamilton  set  an  ambush 
of  600  men  to  slay  Angus  as  he  was  coming  from  Glasgow. 
Lennox  had  pounced  upon  Dumbarton.  Every  day  the  Queen 
expected  to  be  deprived  of  her  children.  She  was  surrounded 
by  spies  on  all  sides.  "  God  send,"  she  writes  to  her  brother, 
"  I  were  such  a  woman  as  might  go  with  my  bairns  in  mine 
arm,  I  trow  I  should  not  be  long  fra  you."  It  was  the  same 
with  all  classes,  high  or  low.  As  might  be  expected,  when 
the  chiefs  quarrelled,  every  Scotchman,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
with  his  keen  appetite  and  canine  sagacity  for  strife,  was  only 
too  ready  to  share  in  the  fray.  "  Ye  know  the  use  (fashion) 
of  this  country,"  says  Sir  James  Inglis^  more  than  three 
hundred  years  ago  ;  "  every  man  speaks  of  what  he  will  with- 
out blame.  There  is  na  slander  punished ;  the  man  hath  ma 
words  na  (than)  the  master,  and  will  not  be  content  except  he 
ken  his  master's  counsel.  There  is  na  order  among  us." 
Yet  no  help  came. 

Equally,  on  the  other  side,  Albany's  inexplicable  delay 
filled  his  followers  with  fear  and  perplexity.  He  did  not 
leave  St.  Malo,  where  he  had  been  hovering  about  for  a 
month,  watching  the  white  sails  of  the  English  cruisers,  until 
the  18th  of  MojJ.  The  exact  day  of  his  disembarkation  is  not 
known ;  it  was  sedulously  concealed.  His  first  letter  was 
addressed  to  Francis  L,  from  Glasgow,  May  22nd,^  doubtless 
from  the  house  of  his  great  ally  the  Archbishop  there.  But 
by  that  time  Francis  was  out  of  ear-shot  of  English  remon- 
strances. He  had  started  on  his  expedition  for  Milan,  and 
cared  not  to  have  his  whereabouts  known.  Albany,  at  his 
arrival,  threw  himself  into  the  arms  of  Hepburn,  Margaret's 
most  implacable  enemy.  The  fiery  pride  of  Hume  was 
offended  at  this  injudicious  preference  of  his  rival.  He 
veered  round  to  the  Queen's  party ;  and  Murray  became 
indifferent. 

By  the  comprehension  of  Scotland  in  the  treaty  with 
France,  Henry  was  precluded  from  all  overt  acts  of  aggression 
on  the  kingdom  of  his  nephew.  Whatever  was  to  be  done, 
especially  against  Albany,  could  only  be  done  by  intrigues 
with  Margaret,  or  continual  raids  upon  the  borders.  For  the 
latter  some  pretext  was  never  long  wanting.  A  hard,  stern 
'  II.  50.  ^  II.  ■1U4. 


212  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENKY  VIII.  [A.D. 

people,  reckless  of  life — for  property  they  had  none, — 
familiarized  from  their  cradles  with  bloodshed  and  robbery, 
nurtured  among  burning  homesteads  and  smoking  ricks — 
accustomed  to  look  out  on  every  bright  moonlit  night  in  the 
summer  for  the  rapid  moss-trooper  swooping  down  with  his 
black  gangs  on  any  spot  recovered  by  a  greener  vegetation 
from  the  drear}''  waste — from  sire  to  son  inheriting  blood 
wdiich  cried  aloud  for  vengeance  and  throbbed  in  their  veins 
for  the  wrongs  of  country  and  kinsmen, — they  never  waited 
to  consider  how  far  they  might  be  violating  the  laws  of 
treaties,  or  what  amount  of  provocation  justified  retaliation. 
The  implacable  feuds  of  the  two  people  had  drawn  a  band  of 
desolation  of  many  miles  in  extent,  from  Berwick  to  Carlisle 
— so  dreary,  so  desolate,  that  centuries  of  peaceful  occupation 
have  not  yet  sufficed  entirely  to  obliterate  its  traces.  Chief  of 
the  English  Marches  was  Thomas  Lord  Dacre,  sometimes 
called  Lord  Dacre  of  the  North  ;  fierce,  imperious,  and  in- 
defatigable ;  not  so  fiery  as  Hotspur,  but  one  to  whom  might 
be  applied,  more  truly  than  to  Hotspur  himself,  the  ex- 
aggerated expression  of  Prince  Henry, — one  that  "would  kill 
some  six  or  seven  dozen  of  Scots  at  a  breakfast,  wash  his 
hands,  and  say  to  his  wife :  '  Fie  upon  this  quiet  life,  I  want 
work.' "  But  Dacre,  unlike  Hotspur,  was  a  man  of  great 
policy,  habituated  to  all  those  arts  of  disguise  and  surprise 
which  had  been  fostered  by  his  border  life.  He  was  the 
person  now  appointed  to  carry  out  the  designs  of  Henry 
against  Scotland  ; — an  everlasting  thorn  to  prick  the  sides  of 
Albany,  and  keep  him  in  perpetual  alarm. 

His  first  move  was  to  disengage  Hume,  the  Chamberlain, 
still  further  from  his  ancient  friends,  and  set  him  up  as  a 
rival  to  the  duke.^  This  was  not  difficult.  Albany  had  been 
received  at  Edinburgh  with  acclamations.  No  better  proof 
can  be  given  of  his  great  popularity  than  the  unusual  efforts 
made  by  Henry  to  detain  him  in  France.  At  the  meeting  of 
the  Scotch  Parliament  on  the  12th  of  July,  the  sword  was 
borne  before  him  by  the  Earl  of  Arran,  without  any  regard  to 
Margaret ;  a  coronet  was  set  upon  his  head  by  Angus  and 
Argyle,  and  he  was  nominated  Protector  until  the  King 
reached  the  age  of  eighteen.  Dacre  had  taken  the  precaution 
to  despatch  his  brother  Sir  Christopher,  like  another  invisible 
Ate,  to  stir  the  blood  of  the  disafiected  lords,  and  prompt  the 
neutrals  to  disaffection.     It  required  very  little  art  to  crusk 

»  II.  779. 


1515.]  MAEGAKET   BESIEGED   IN   STIRLING.  213 

the   clusters  of   "  ripe  hate,  like  a  wine  ; "  or  to  note   the 

way— 

"It  worked  -while  each  grew  drunk  : ' 

but  one  art — and  that  was,  not  to  seem  to  work  in  behalf  of 
England,  which  the  Scotch  feared,  hated,  and  suspected. 
Albany,  who  had  little  capacity  for  ruling,  began  unwisely  by 
revenging  past  injuries,  and  striking  at  the  adherents  of 
Margaret.  Lord  Drummond,  the  grandfather  of  Angus,  was 
sent  to  Blackness  for  maltreating  a  herald  of  Albany's  a  year 
before.  Gawin  Douglas  was  committed  to  the  sea  tower  of 
St.  Andrew's,  for  his  English  predilections.  Eight  lords  were 
appointed  to  have  the  supervision  of  the  young  King,  and 
four  of  them  were  sent  to  Margaret  with  an  intimation  to 
select  three.  Margaret  was  then  at  Stirling.  On  hearing  of 
their  approach  she  took  the  young  King  by  the  hand,  then  a 
child  of  two  years  old,  and  with  her  nurse  carrying  the  other 
Prince  in  her  arms,  posted  herself  in  the  gateway  of  the  castle 
attended  by  Angus,  and  resolutely  waited  the  coming  of  the 
lords.  The  moment  they  were  seen  approaching  within  three 
yards  of  the  gate,  she  commanded  them  to  stand  and  deliver 
their  message.  They  replied  they  had  brought  her  a  com- 
mission to  deliver  into  their  hands  the  King  and  his  brother. 
At  the  instant  the  portcullis  dropped ;  and  Margaret  refused 
all  further  parley,  declaring  that  the  castle  was  her  own,  and 
that  by  the  will  of  her  husband  she  was  the  guardian  of  his 
children.  On  the  fifth  day  she  offered  to  commit  them  to  the 
care  of  three  lords  of  her  own  nomination ;  but  her  proposition 
was  refused,  and  Albany  resolved  to  make  himself  master  of 
the  fortress.  For  this  purpose  he  employed  the  services  of 
her  husband,  Angus  !  '■ 

The  possession  of  the  two  Princes  was  of  the  utmost 
importance  ;  and  Albany  was  determined  not  to  be  baffled. 
Stu'ling  w^as  strictly  besieged  by  Lennox,  Borthwick,  Bothwell, 
and  others,  hereditary  enemies  of  the  Douglas.  Angus,  who 
had  withdrawn  from  Stirling,  was  commanded  on  his  allegiance 
to  return,  and  assist  in  "  keeping  victuals  from  the  (^ueen  and 
her  party."  This  gratuitous  cruelty  and  impolitic  measure  of 
the  Duke  gave  Dacre  the  opportunity  he  desired.  He  arranged 
for  Angus  and  the  Chamberlain  to  ride  to  Stirling  with  CO  horse 
and  carry  off  the  two  Princes.  They  managed  to  speak  with 
Margaret,  and  smuggle  in  George  Douglas,  the  Earl's  brother. 
Unfortunately   sixteen   of  the   party  were  lost   as  they  cn- 

»  II.  779,  783. 


214  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  YHI.  [A.D. 

clecavoiired  to  steal  away  unperceivecl.  But  Dacre  had  aceom- 
jDlished  one  part  of  his  purpose  : — an  irreconcHable  feud 
sprung  up  between  Albany  and  the  Chamberlam. 

On  Saturday,  4th  of  August,  Albany  appeared  before 
Stirlmg,  accompanied  with  7,000  men  and  a  park  of  artillery  : 
among  the  number  was  the  celebrated  Mons  Meg,  now  laid  up 
in  honourable  inactivity  in  the  castle  at  Edinburgh.  It  had 
been  arranged  by  Margaret  and  her  husband,  that  in  the 
event  of  the  Duke  assaulting  the  castle,  Margaret  should  take 
the  young  King,  and,  placing  him  on  the  ramparts^  in  sight 
of  the  invaders,  with  a  crown  on  his  head  and  a  sceptre  in  his 
hand,  testify  by  this  act  that  the  war  was  directed  against  the 
King's  own  person.  The  formidable  nature  of  Albany's 
pre^mration  drove  this  and  all  thoughts  of  resistance  out  of 
the  heads  of  the  besieged.  George  Douglas  with  the  rest 
fled,  leaving  Margaret  and  the  young  Princes  to  their  fate. 
In  her  distress  she  had  no  alternative  except  to  surrender. 
She  put  the  keys  of  the  fortress  into  the  young  King's  hands, 
and,  descending  with  him  to  the  gate,  delivered  them  to  the 
keeping  of  the  Duke ;  beseeching  the  regent,  at  the  same 
time,  to  show  favour  to  her  children  and  her  husband.^  She 
was  remanded  to  the  castle,  and  closely  watched  by  Albany's 
adherents. 

So  far  Dacre  had  succeeded  above  his  expectations  in 
exasperating  Margaret  against  the  regent,  and  rendering  all 
sincere  reconciliation  between  them  impossible.  But  the  two 
Princes  had  escaped  the  snare.  His  next  device  was  to  entice 
Albany  to  invade  England,  and  thus  by  breaking  the  com- 
prehension give  Henry  a  just  pretext  for  sending  an  army 
into  Scotland.  This  was  not  easy ;  it  might,  however,  be 
accomplished.  By  sheltering  the  disaffected  nobles  in  the 
English  marches,  Albany  might  be  provoked  to  make  a 
sudden  attempt  to  cross  the  borders  and  secure  their  persons.^ 
No  device  seemed  more  available  for  that  purpose  than  the 
feud  between  Albany  and  the  Chamberlain;  and  as  Hume 
had  been  warden  of  the  marches  for  Scotland,  this  j^lan 
seemed  the  most  feasible.     If  attacked  by  Albany  he  could 

^  II.  783.  "^  IT.  788.  that  policy ;  and  how  nnscrupulonsly 

^  This  is  only  one  specimen  of  the  they  pursued  it — goaded  on,  as  Dacre 

systematic     policy    pursued    by    the  was,  by  dread  of  being  thought  to  do 

Tudors  towai'ds  Scotland  and  its  rulers.  his   work  incomiDletely,  and  not  nn- 

The  conduct  of  Dacre  is  but  one  in-  frequently  stimulated  by  personal  and 

stance  of  many  which  might  be  pro-  national   hatred   of   the   Scotch.     Of 

duced  to  show  how  thoroughly  such  that  hatred  this  age  happily  can  form 

ministers  entered   into   the  spirit  of  no  conception. 


1515.]  DACRE'S  INTRIGUES.  215 

readily  retreat  into  the  English  borders;  if  he  required 
ammunition,  nothing  was  easier  than  to  send  it  him  from 
Berwick,  or  allow  him  to  take  it  by  a  feint.  Such  was  Dacre's 
suggestion ;  and  it  seems  to  have  been  acted  on  ;  ^  although  it 
sometimes  happened  that  those  who  had  to  carry  out  these 
plans  did  not  understand  them,  and  thought  that  Dacre  was 
intriguing  with  Albany.  Hume  had  a  stronghold  on  the 
borders,  named  Fast  Castle,  which  appeared  admirably 
adapted  to  the  plot.  It  was  victualled  by  Hume  at  the 
suggestion  of  Dacre,  "meaning  to  do  the  Duke  all  the 
annoyance  he  could,  and  take  refuge  in  England  when  he 
could  hold  it  no  longer."^  Alarmed  at  these  intentions, 
Albany  commanded  Arran  and  Lennox  to  dislodge  him.  At 
the  suggestion,  doubtless,  of  Dacre,  Hume  made  a  shov;  of 
submission,  and  offered  it  to  Albany  if  he  would  come  and 
take  it  with  a  small  band.  On  his  appearing  before  the  walls 
Lady  Hume  refused  to  deliver  it.^  By  Dacre's  advice  it  was 
delivered  at  last  to  Lord  Fleming,  but  in  so  ruinous  a  con- 
dition as  to  render  its  possession  worthless.'*  Hume  had  set 
it  on  fire,  taken  away  the  iron  gates,  unroofed  all  the  houses 
and  chambers,  left  *'no  thakke  "  or  covering  over  any  part, 
except  only  a  vault,^  where  Fleming  lay  with  a  small  company. 
Dissatisfied  even  with  this  destruction,  Hume  retook  the 
castle,  drove  out  Fleming,  levelled  the  walls  to  the  ground, 
and,  in  the  expressive  language  of  the  day,^  ''dammed  up  the 
well  for  evermore."  Dacre  might  well  boast  he  had  got  the 
Chamberlain  into  his  power,  and  there  was  no  probability  of 
his  reconciliation  with  the  Duke.  "  It  is  the  interest  of  the 
Chamberlain  to  be  true,"  he  wrote  to  Sir  Anthony  Ughtred, 
captain  of  Berwick,  who  was  mystified  with  this  crooked 
policy ;  "  I  am  aware  of  his  movements,  and  cannot  be 
beguiled."'^  In  his  desire  for  revenge,  Hume,  like  the  horse 
in  the  fable,  had  taken  a  new  and  rougher  rider  on  his  back. 
Six  months  before  he  was  the  most  powerful  noble  in  Scotland, 
now  a  houseless  man  and  an  exile.  The  arts  of  Dacre  were 
prospering.  He  had  prepared  a  bed  of  thorns  for  Albany. 
He  was  trailing  round  the  regent  an  inextricable  web  of 
intrigue  and  faction,  and  was  enchanted  at  the  prospect. 

I  return  to  Margaret,  whom  we  left  a  prisoner,  strictly 

»  II.  218.  evident   that    the   English    n;irrators 

*  Aug.  7.     II.  788.  meant  one  and  the  same  place. 
»  Aug.  14.  ^11.  850. 

*  Though    spoken   of    as    "  Home  *  II.  861. 
castle "    in   Nos.    850    and   861,   and  '  II.  p.  nO. 
"  Fast  castle  "  elBewhere,  I  think  it  is 


216  THE   EEIGX  OF   HENEY   VIII.  [A.D. 

watched,  in  Stirling  castle.  She  bad  desired  her  brother  to 
send  her  aid  in  the  shape  of  an  army;  in  bis  inability  to 
comply  with  this  request  Henry  invited  her  to  take  refuge  in 
England.^  Dacre  was  instructed  to  convey  her  safely  into 
her  brother's  dominions  from  Douglas  castle,  or  any  other 
place  within  ten  miles  this  side  of  Stirling.  Margaret  alleged, 
in  answer  to  this  proposal,  that  she  would  rather  follow  it 
"  than  be  the  greatest  lady  in  the  world;  "^  but  neither  she, 
her  husband,  nor  his  uncle  Gawiu  Douglas,  could  see  how  it 
was  to  be  executed ;  for  she  was  sm-rounded  on  all  sides  by 
spies,  and  all  her  communications  were  intercex)ted.  She 
added  a  significant  hint  that  in  the  event  of  no  succours 
coming  she  should  be  compelled  to  submit  to  the  Duke,  as  she 
had  no  means  of  defending  herself.^  It  is  probable  that 
neither  Margaret  nor  her  advisers  approved  of  a  flight  to 
England,  except  as  a  desperate  remedy.  So  long  as  they  had 
hopes  of  maintaining  themselves  in  Scotland,  that  was  better 
than  refuge  in  England,  however  honourable ;  refuge  there 
involved  the  destruction  of  her  party,  and  all  her  expectations 
as  Queen.  In  vain  Henry's  agents  endeavoured  to  combat 
these  objections.^  The  capture  of  her  two  sons,  and  her  own 
imprisonment  at  Stirling,  had  destroyed  her  hopes ;  and  if 
Albanj'-'s  letters  and  her  own  may  be  trusted,  she  had  learned 
to  acquiesce  in  her  fate  ;  or  at  least  pretended  so  to  do.  She 
returned  to  Edinburgh  in  token  of  her  satisfaction  at  the 
regent's  conduct ;  ^  she  had  even  written  to  her  brother, 
expressing  a  wish  that  she  and  Albany  should  continue  in 
such  a  course  that  peace  might  be  preserved  between  them ; 
she  expressed  her  approbation  of  the  course  taken  by  parlia- 
ment in  reference  to  the  royal  children  ;  and  as  this  letter 
was  signed  in  the  way  she  had  arranged  with  Henry  w^hen  he 
was  to  consider  her  writing  as  spontaneous,  we  must  believe 
that  these  professions  at  the  time  w^ere  sincere.^  She  added 
at  the  close  of  the  letter  a  very  suspicious  clause,  that  as  she 
had  not  more  than  eight  weeks  to  her  time,  she  intended  to 
lie  in  at  Linlithgow  in  twelve  days.'^  The  letter  was  dated 
from  Edinburgh,  August  20th.  Apparently  this  was  a  i)re- 
concerted   signal   between  herself  and  Dacre,  to  whom  she 

^  II.  62.  had  compelled  Margaret  to  -write  and 

, "  II.  47.  express  lier  satisfaction  to  her  brother 

^  II.  48.  against   her   will ;    and    that   he    had 

*  11.  66.  received  a  secret  message  from  her  to 

'  See  August  10.  II.  795.                     that  effect,   to   be   communicated  to 

®  Yet  Alexander  Hume   -wrote   to       Dacre  (Xo.  846). 

Dacre  on  the  24th  to  say  that  Albany            '  II.  832. 


1515.]  MAEGAKET   ESCAPES   TO   ENGLAND.  217 

wrote  at  the  same  time.     By  some  contrivance  the  letter  was 
not  des23atclied  until  the  end  of  the  month. 

On  the  1st  September/  Dacre  requested  her  to  change 
Linlithgow  for  Blacater,  near  Berwick,  when  he  promised  to 
wait  upon  her.  She  wrote  in  reply  by  Sir  Robert  Carr,  that 
Dacre  did  not  comprehend  her  real  position ;  she  was  kept  in 
strict  watch  by  Albany  in  Edinburgh,  her  friends  were  in 
"ward,"  her  revenues  withheld.  Escape  was  not  easy.  To 
follow  Dacre's  advice,  and  reach  Blacater,  she  would  feign 
sickness,  go  to  Linlithgow  with  the  earl  her  husband,  and 
there  take  her  chamber.  She  proposed  to  leave  on  the  first 
or  second  night,  accompanied  only  by  her  husband  and  four 
or  five  servants ;  the  Chamberlain  was  to  meet  her  with 
"40  hardy  and  well  striking  fellows,"  two  or  three  miles  from 
the  town.  It  was  suggested  that  in  the  event  of  failure,  he 
should  set  fire  to  some  village,  as  if  his  intentions  had  been 
nothing  more  than  a  border  raid,  and  then  wait  for  a  better 
opportunity.  It  was  now  the  7th  of  September,  and  Dacre 
was  at  Etall.  The  plot  could  not  apparently  be  carried  out 
so  soon  as  was  expected.  Nearly  a  month  slipped  away,  but 
on  Sunday,  September  30th,  Margaret  arrived  at  Harbottle  ; 
and  the  Sunday  after,  in  the  words  of  Dacre,  was  immediately 
"  delivered  of  a  fair  young  lady,"  christened  the  next  day  with 
such  conveniences  as  they  could  muster.'-^  This  was  the 
celebrated  Margaret  Douglas,  afterwards  married  to  the  Earl 
of  Lennox.  When  her  escape  became  known  to  Albany,  he 
wrote  to  her  the  most  urgent  entreaties  to  return  to  Scotland, 
apologized  for  the  part  he  had  taken  in  reference  to  her 
children,  and  attributed  the  act  entirely  to  the  States.^  If  she 
would  return  to  Scotland  "to  her  gesine  "  (her  lying-in)  he 
l^romised  to  restore  everything  in  seven  days,  and  take  Angus 
into  favour.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  these  offers  were  rejected 
with  scorn.  On  the  10th  she  notified  to  him  her  delivery  "  of 
a  Christian  soul,  being  a  young  lady,"  ^  and  demanded  the 
governance  of  her  children.  The  answer  of  the  Council  of 
Scotland  to  this  demand  was  extraordinary ;  still  more  as  it 
was  manifestly  dictated  by  Albany.  They  told  her  that  the 
governance  of  the  realm  expired  with  the  death  of  her  husband, 
and  devolved  upon  the  States ;  that  Albany  had  been  appointed 
by  her  consent ;  that  she  had  forfeited  the  guardianship  of 
her  children  by  her  second  marriage ;    that  in  all   temporal 

'  IT.  885.  »  II.  879,  1027. 

'  II.  1044,  1672.  *  II.  1011. 


218  THE  EEIGN  OF  HEXKY  Till.  [A.D. 

matters  "  the  realm  of  Scotland  has  been  immediately  subject 
to  Almighty  God,  not  recognizing  the  Pope  or  any  superior  upon 
earth" 

It  was  in  vain  that  Albany  employed  threats  and  blandish- 
ments alternately.  He  wrote  to  Queen  Mary/  whom  he  had 
personally  known  in  France,  to  her  husband  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk,  to  Henrj',  and  to  Wolsey ;  ^  his  intentions,  he  said, 
were  studiously  misrepresented,  and  Dacre — without  mention- 
ing his  name — had  kept  the  truth  from  the  King's  ears. 
Truth  was  not  the  thing  wanted,  least  of  all  peace.  It  was 
Dacre's  object  to  keep  Albany  in  perpetual  alarm ;  to  throw 
over  the  borders  the  lawless  troopers  of  Northumberland, 
Eiddesdale,  Tynedale,  and  Gillesland,  and  withdraw  them  the 
moment  Albany  appeared  in  force.  By  all  the  means  his 
fertile  brains  could  devise,  he  fomented  the  animosities  of 
the  nobles,  especially  of  the  Humes ;  he  held  out  to  them 
promises  of  munificent  rewards  from  his  master  on  condition 
that  they  should  never  make  terms  with  Albany ;  and  he  took 
care,  in  his  private  correspondence  with  the  Duke,  that  Albany 
should  be  in  no  temper  or  condition  to  make  advances. 
"  They  are  resolved,"  he  says,  in  a  letter  to  the  King,^  "to 
annoy  the  Duke,  who  is  well  weary  from  the  continued  spoil- 
ing, bm-ning,  and  slaughter  in  Scotland."  Dacre  was  inde- 
fatigable in  these  devices ;  an  inimitable  agent  of  mischief 
and  destruction.  In  his  hands  the  passions,  the  selfishness, 
the  treachery  of  men  were  more  desolating  instruments  than 
fire  and  sword,  for  turning  a  fruitful  land  into  a  wilderness. 

Henry  was  desirous  that  Margaret  should  spend  her 
Christmas  in  London,  and  take  part  in  the  pageantry  of  that 
season,"*  into  which  no  one  entered  with  greater  zest  than 
himself.  But  her  delivery  had  been  followed  by  a  severe  and 
protracted  illness.  From  Harbottle  she  had  been  removed 
to  Morpeth,  to  Dacre's  intolerable  expense,  and  was  some 
days  in  accomplishing  the  journey.  She  was  too  feeble  to 
bear  the  jolting  of  horses  in  the  litter,  and  was  carried  the 
whole  distance  on  the  shonlders  of  Dacre's  servants.  Sir 
Christopher  Garneys,  whom  Skelton  the  poet  has  made  the 
subject  of  his  bitterest  invectives,  was  sent  to  visit  her  in 
December,  and  carry  her  the  King's  presents.  He  gives  an 
aflecting  picture  of  the  Queen  and  the  woman,  racked  by 
excruciating  pains,  which  could  not  extinguish  the  delight  she 
took  in  the  new  dresses  just  arrived  from  London.     "  I  think 

1  II.  1025.       ■   II.  1024, 1030.       ^  jj  io44.       «  11.  1223. 


1515-16.]  MARGARET  IN  ENGLAND.  219 

her,"  he  sajs/  "one  of  the  lowest-brought  ladies  with  her 
great  i^ain  of  sickness  that  I  have  seen,  and  escape.  Her 
Grace  hath  such  a  pain  in  lier  right  leg  that  these  three  weeks 
she  may  not  endure  to  sit  up  while  her  bed  is  a-making ;  and 
when  her  Grace  is  removed,  it  would  pity  any  man's  heart  to 
hear  the  shrieks  and  cries  that  her  Grace  giveth."  ^  Imme- 
diately she  heard  of  the  presents,  she  had  herself  borne  in 
a  chair  out  of  her  bedroom  into  the  great  chamber,  to  feast 
her  eyes  on  the  rich  stuffs  her  brother  had  sent  her.  "When 
she  had  seen  everything,"  continues  Garneys,  "  she  bid  the 
lord  chamberlain  (Hume,  who  had  followed  her  to  Morpeth) 
and  the  other  gentlemen  come  in  and  look  at  them ;  exclaim- 
ing, with  an  air  of  triumph,  '  So,  my  Lords,  here  ye  may  see 
that  the  King  my  brother  hath  not  forgotten  me,  and  that  he 
would  not  I  should  die  for  lack  of  clothes  !  '  "  Garneys  adds 
that  she  had  a  wonderful  love  of  apparel,  and  had  caused  the 
go^vns  of  cloth  of  gold  and  tinsen  (tinsel)  to  be  made  against 
this  term  of  Christmas,  "  and  likes  the  fashion  so  well  she 
will  send  for  them  and  have  them  held  before  her  once  or 
twice  a  day  to  look  at."  She  had  already  in  the  castle  twenty- 
two  gowns  of  cloth  of  silk  and  gold,  and  had  sent  to  Edinburgh 
for  more. 

In  this  flutter  of  delight  she  was  unconscious  of  the  great 
loss  which  had  befallen  her.  The  Duke  of  Kothesay,  her 
favomite  child,  had  died  a  few  days  before,  on  the  18th  of 
December.  The  news  was  known  to  Dacre,  but  no  one  dared 
break  it  to  Margaret.  She  herself  was  too  much  occupied 
with  her  clothes  to  notice  the  anxious  looks  of  her  attendants. 
The  Duke,  by  all  accounts,  was  a  beautiful  and  winning  boy ; 
and  Margaret,  who  had  not  seen  him  since  she  left  Edinburgh, 
was  never  tired  of  talking  about  him.  "If  it  comes  to  her 
knowledge,"  says  Garneys,  "  it  will  be  fatal  to  her.  These 
four  or  five  days  of  her  own  mind  it  hath  pleased  her  grace  to 
show  unto  me  how  goodly  a  child  her  younger  son  is,  and  her 
grace  praiseth  him  more  than  she  doth  the  king  her  eldest 
son."  ^  In  such  unobserved  corners  nature  peeps  out.  No 
amount  of  brocade,  no  mountain  heaps  of  political  intrigue, 
could  smother  it  entirely. 

'  II.  1350.  fore  wonlrl  she  tako  colosos,  mortcrong, 

^  It  was  a  disease  in  the  hip-joint :  almond  milk,  good  broths,  pottages,  or 

according  to  Dacre  and  Magnus,  pro-  boiled  incatH,  but  only  roast  meat  with 

bably  sciatica.     She  was  a  very  un.  jcjjb'es,  and  that  very  scantily."     (H. 

manageable  patient.      "  Her  long  con-  1387.) 
finement,"  says  Dacre,  "1ms  destroyed  '  11.1759,1829. 

her  appetite,  nor  at  any  time  hereto- 


220  THE  REIGN  OF  HENEY  VIII.  [A.D. 

In  April  tlie  Queen's  liealtli  was  re-established,  and  she 
started  southward  on  her  progress.  The  journey  was  not 
pressed  upon  her  solely  from  motives  of  affection.  Dacre  was 
afraid  that  the  resort  of  the  Scotch  nobles  to  Morpeth  might 
produce  some  change  in  the  Queen's  inclinations,  and  possibly 
tempt  her  to  an  accommodation  with  Albany,  who  wrote 
frequently  and  made  many  professions.  Dacre  dictated  her 
letters,  and  under  such  management  there  was  no  fear  of 
their  being  too  conciliatory.-^  On  the  3rd  of  May  the  King  met 
her  at  Tottenham,  and  "the  same  day  her  Grace  did  ride 
behind  Sir  Thomas  Parr  through  Cheapside,  about  six  o'clock, 
to  Baj^ard's  castle."  ^  She  remained  in  England  until  June, 
1517,  taking  part  in  the  court  pageantry,  and  adding  lustre 
by  her  presence  to  those  masks  and  ceremonials,  on  which,  in 
the  absence  of  more  serious  occupations,  so  much  attention  was 
then  bestowed.  Her  necessities  were  pressing ;  from  Henry 
she  had  no  regular  allowance,  and  no  remittances  came  from 
Scotland.^  We  find  her  urgently  demanding  of  Wolsey  200L 
for  her  own  and  her  servants'  wants  at  Christmas.^  "  I  pray 
you  heartily,  my  lord,  put  me  off  no  longer,  for  the  time  is 
short ;  and  if  you  will  do  so  much  for  me  at  this  time  I  pray 
send  me  word,  for  I  will  trouble  you  no  more  with  my  sending, 
for  then  I  will  speak  to  the  king  my  brother,  for  I  trust  his 
grace  will  do  so  much  for  me."  The  King,  her  son,  was  in 
Scotland.  Angus,  her  husband,  and  Hume,  had  left  her  on 
hearing  her  resolution  to  proceed  southward.^  Judging  by 
the  cautious  terms  of  Caere's  letter,  there  had  been  a  quarrel 
between  them  on  this  subject.  They  had  no  appetite  for  an 
honourable  captivity  in  England,  and  from  that  moment  were 
reconciled  to  Albany.  No  wonder  Margaret  was  anxious  to 
return  and  join  her  child  and  her  husband.  The  preparations 
for  a  war  with  France  facilitated  her  wishes.  Ostensibly 
Albany  was  tired  of  Scotland,  and  desu'ous  to  leave.     He  pro- 

^  II.  1671.  in  LoncTon,  etc.,  170/.  ;  till  her  coming 

«  II.  1861.  to  York,  200L  ;  for  the  Queen  herself, 

^  Yet  I  find  the  following  sums  ad-  first  180/.,  and  afterwards  666/.  13s. 

vanced  for  her  use  in  the  King's  Book  4d.  ;  to  Magnus  going  with  her,  40/. ; 

of  Payments  (see  Calendar,  II.  pp.1471  to  Sir  Edw.  Benstead  attending  on  her 

seq.)  : — In  April,  1516,  100/. ;  in  May,  40  days,  10/. ;  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  her 

200/.,  by  Magnus  ;  in  July,  100/.,  by  carver,  10?.  ;  Master  Hall,  her  chai^- 

Sir  Thos.  Par;  in  September,  140/.  in  lain,  66s.  St/.;  two  gentlemen  iishers, 

two  payments ;    in  November,   100/.  ;  3s.  4(^.  a  day  ;  and  two  grooms  of  her 

and  the  same  in  December.     In  1517,  chamber,  20(?.  a  day  each;  Jamy  Dogge, 

in  February,  140/. ;  and  when  she  was  lOOs.     The  plate  given  her  is  estimated 

returning    to    Scotland    in    May,   the  at  125/.  Is.  9A. 

following   sums    were    appointed    for  ■*  II.  2729. 

herself  and  her  attendants : — expenses  ^  11.1759. 


1517.]  MAEGARET   RETURNS   TO   SCOTLAND.  221 

fessed  the  strongest  ^visli  for  the  two  kingdoms  to  remain  at 
peace,  and  even  offered  to  visit  Henry  in  England,  provided 
he  might  have  sufficient  security.-^  This  arrangement  never 
took  effect.  The  estates  of  Scotland  refused  to  let  Albany 
leave  until  their  King  was  of  age.^  When  Clarencieux  urged 
him  to  give  some  proof  of  his  sincerity,  he  took  the  herald's 
"  hand  betwixt  his  two  hands,  and  swore  by  the  faith  he 
owed  unto  God  and  by  the  faith  of  a  gentleman  " — a 
phrase  he  had  apparently  picked  up  from  his  familiarity  with 
Francis  I. — "that  he  would  put  himself  in  his  most  effectual 
devoir  to  have  his  leave  of  the  Scots  to  go  to  England ;  and 
were  he  not  as  well  minded  as  any  one,  in  condition  he  were 
ready  to  depart,  to  go  on  foot  from  Edinburgh  to  London,  he 
would  forsake  his  part  in  paradise,  and  give  him,  body  and 
soul,  to  all  the  devils  of  hell ;  and  further  sware  in  like 
manner,  upon  a  piece  of  the  Holy  Cross,  and  on  divers  other 
relics,  which  be  in  a  tablet  of  gold  hanging  about  his  neck." 

In  March,  1517,  when  by  the  treaty  of  Noyon  all  the 
European  powers  were  in  league  with  France,  a  truce  was 
concluded  between  England  and  Scotland,  and  Margaret  was 
allowed  to  return,  on  condition  that  she  took  no  part  in  the 
administration.^  She  commenced  her  journey  in  May."^  At  her 
entry  into  York  she  was  received  by  the  Earl  of  Northumber- 
land.^ On  Whitsunday,  31st  of  May,  she  dined  at  St.  Mary's 
Abbey.  On  the  15th  of  the  next  month  she  entered  Scotland.^ 
Albany  in  the  interval  had  crossed  to  France  on  the  8th, 
leaving  as  governors  in  his  place  the  Archbishops  of  St. 
Andrews  and  Glasgow,  with  the  Earls  of  Huntley,  Angus, 
Argyle,  and  Ai-ran.  Magnus,  who  attended  her  and  noticed 
her  dejection,  thought  that  she  would  rather  have  remained 
in  England.  He  did  the  best  to  comfort  and  advise  her ;  but 
she  loitered  on  the  borders,  naturally  reluctant  when  the  time 
came  to  trust  herself  again  to  the  stormy  sea  from  which  she 
had  escaped  so  recently.  "Her  Grace,"  he  adds,'  "con- 
sidereth  now  the  honour  of  England,  and  the  poverty  and 
wretchedness  of  Scotland,  which  she  did  not  afore,  but  in  her 
opinion  esteemed  Scotland  equal  to  England." 

She  was  well  received,  but  her  authority  was  not  restored, 
and  her  influence  was  less  substantial  than  it  was  before. 
What  could  a  woman  do  among  such  restless  and  imperious 

'  II.  2231-5.  *  II.  33;?f). 

2  II.  2610.  "  II.  3305. 

»  11.  ;ill9.  '  Ibid. 
*  II.  3209. 


222  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

spirits,  proud  and  defiant  under  all  rule,  still  more  under  that 
of  an  English  Princess?  The  romantic  chivalry  towards 
women,  sometimes  carried  to  excess  in  the  South,  was  scarcely 
known  in  Scotland.  The  Scotch  nobility,  uneducated  as  a 
body,  and  despising  all  arts  and  polite  acquirements,  spent 
their  lives  in  endless  feuds,  devoting  the  little  intellects  they 
had  to  interminable  quarrels,  transmitted  from  sire  to  son 
with  fatal  and  unimpaired  fidelity.  Never  engaged  in  one 
common  enterprize  or  continental  war,  no  sense  of  unity  as  a 
nation,  no  national  spirit  existed  among  them.  There  was 
no  centre,  as  in  England,  round  which  the  restless  and  jarring 
elements  might  eventually  concentrate  and  find  harmony  and 
repose  at  last ;  sovereigns  to  them  were  but  mockery  kings 
and  queens  of  snow.  One  bond  of  union  they  had,  and  but 
one,  the  worst  a  people  could  have,  and  that  was  hatred; 
hatred  the  most  intense  for  England,  and,  next  to  that,  for 
one  another.  Happily  the  former  continued  strong  enough 
and  long  enough  to  prevent  the  latter  from  running  out  into 
its  fullest  latitude  of  excess  ;  and  their  border  warfare,  perhaps 
the  most  sanguinary  that  ever  stained  the  annals  of  any  people, 
had  this  one  advantage,  that  it  gave  the  Scotch  aristocracy 
and  their  followers  a  common  enemy,  and  something  of  a 
common  interest,  and  so  preserved  the  nation  from  utter 
desolation.  I  must  conclude  this  portion  of  my  narrative  with 
some  remarks  on  the  fate  and  conduct  of  the  Humes,  whose 
exploits  have  been  so  frequently  mentioned  in  these  pages. 

When  Margaret  took  her  journey  to  London,  Angus  and 
Hume  had  left  her  in  displeasure,  to  the  extreme  disgust  of 
Dacre.  Both  returned  to  Scotland,  and  were  reconciled  to 
Albany.-^  From  that  moment  the  Chamberlain's  fate  is  in- 
volved in  obscurity.  His  mother.  Lady  Hume  (according  to 
the  partial  statement  of  Margaret,  wiiicli  was  in  truth  only  a 
political  manifesto  drawn  by  Dacre),  had  been  taken  from 
Coldstream  by  De  la  Bastie,  placed  "on  a  trotting  horse  in 
spite  of  her  age,"  and  carried  to  Dunbar  castle,  where  she 
was  kept  "  six  weeks  on  brown  store-bread  and  water."  ^ 
The  Chamberlain  had  been  attainted  in  Parliament  for  the 
part  he  had  taken  in  furthering  Margaret's  escape,  and  urging 
an  invasion  by  England.  But  rumour  reported  that  he  had 
made  his  peace  with  the  Duke,  through  the  mediati^wi  of  the 
Archbishop  of  St.  Andrew's^  (Forman,  late  Bishop  of  Murray). 
Dacre  writes  to  Wolsey  on  the  26th  of  October,*  but  without 

»  II.  1759.  ■  II.  p.  467.  ^  II.  1938.  *  II.  2481. 


1517.]  EXECUTION   OF   HUME   AND  HIS   BROTHER.  223 

a  passing  expression  of  regret,  that  the  Master  of  Graj^stoek 
would  explain  to  hijn  the  order  for  the  execution  of  Lord  Hume 
and  his  brother.  They  had  already  been  executed  some  day 
before  this  communication/  and  their  heads  had  been  set  on 
"the  town  house  at  Edinburgh."^  That  the  reconciliation 
with  Albany  was  sincere  on  his  part  is  obvious  from  Spinelly's 
letters.  At  the  Duke's  recommendation  Francis  I.  granted 
pensions  to  six  of  the  Scotch  noblemen  who  had  hitherto  been 
inclined  to  England,  and  the  Chamberlain  was  one  of  that 
number,^  As  late  as  on  the  29th  of  August,  we  find  from  a 
letter  of  Clarencieux  '^  to  Wolsey  that  Angus,  Hume,  and  their 
party,  still  hung  together,  and  were  outwardly  submissive  to 
the  Duke.  Hume's  relative,  David  Hume  of  Wedderburn,^ 
states  positively  that  the  Chamberlain  was  slain  by  Albany 
"  under  trust ;  " — an  assertion  not  to  be  accepted  without 
hesitation,  considering  the  quarter  from  which  it  emanates. 
Whatever  might  be  the  cause,  Hume  was  condemned  by  Parlia- 
ment. A  traitor  aj^parently  on  both  sides,  and  studious  only 
of  revenge  at  any  sacrifice,  his  fate  was  not  regretted  or  con- 
demned by  his  own  people  or  by  Englishmen.  Neither  Dacre 
nor  his  Sovereign  made  any  effort  to  save  him. 

The  clan  of  the  Humes  studied  revenge.  David  Hume  in 
desx3air  seized  the  person  of  the  French  ambassador,^  but  at 
the  bidding  of  Dacre  reluctantly  consented  to  let  him  go. 
George  Hume  took  a  more  ample  and  speedy  revenge.  At  the 
death  of  the  Chamberlain,  De  la  Bastie,  the  bravest  and  most 
accomplished  knight  in  Scotland,  had  been  appointed  warden 
of  the  East  Marches.  On  the  15th  of  April,  1517,'  he  was 
desired  by  Albany  to  visit  Dacre,  then  at  Naward,  and  demand 
the  smTender  of  George  Hume  and  others,  according  to  the 
agreement  lately  made  between  the  two  nations.  Dacre  stated, 
in  reply  to  this  demand,  that  he  did  not  know  where  George 
Hume  and  his  brother  were  to  be  found.  He  thought  they 
were  in  Scotland,  but  if  they  were  in  his  borders  he  would  do 
his  best  to  take  them.^  On  the  IGth  of  June,  La  Bastie  was 
one  of  those  who  met  Margaret  on  the  borders,  and  welcomed 
her  to  Scotland.  Towards  the  end  of  July  ^  he  was  again  with 
Dacre  on  the  subject  of  these  border  disputes.  This  is  the 
last  time  we  hear  of  him  alive.  The  Humes  had  been  watch- 
ing for  an  opportunity  of  revenge  ;  at  length,  they  contrived 

»  II.  October  8.  «  II.  4338. 

'   II.  2484.  '  II.  3124. 

3  July.  II.  2136.  «  II.  3139. 

*   II.  2314.  »  II.  p.  1083. 
=-   II.  4338. 


224  THE  EEIGN  OP  HENRY  VHL  [A.D. 

by  a  feint  to  draw  out  La  Bastie,  accompanied  with  a  few 
followers,  from  the  castle  of  Dunbar,  attacked  bim  in  full 
force,  and  as  bis  borse  got  entangled  in  a  morass,^  in  his 
attempt  to  escape,  slew  bim  with  great  cruelty,  cut  off  bis 
head,  which  George  Hume  slung  at  his  saddle-bow,  and  fixed 
it  upon  a  pole  in  the  town  of  Dunse.  The  Scotch  historians 
date  this  murder  on  the  19tb  or  20th  of  September.  I  think 
it  must  have  been  earlier  for  the  following  reasons.  Margaret 
had  written  to  Dacre,  desiring  him,  at  the  request  of  the  laird 
of  Wedderburn,  to  send  her  the  prior  of  Coldingham  and  bis 
brother  George  Hume,  for  now  was  the  time  for  them  to  take 
her  part.  She  was  resolved,  she  told  him,  to  have  "  all  the 
rule,  or  there  will  be  some  trouble."  It  appears  that  either 
on  her  own  behalf,  or  at  the  suggestion  of  Angus,  she  thought 
it  possible,  in  the  confusion  which  arose  on  the  death  of  La 
Bastie,  Albany's  most  important  adherent,  that  she  might 
make  a  dash  at  the  crown,  and  regain  her  authority.  It  is 
clear  too  that  she  believed  the  two  Humes,  notwithstanding 
this  murder,  were  sheltered  and  supported  by  Dacre,  who 
naturally  laid  himself  open  to  suspicion  from  the  encourage- 
ment he  had  given  to  the  Humes  and  his  adoption  of  an  ille- 
gitimate sou  of  the  late  Chamberlain.  His  reply  indicates 
considerable  annoyance,  and  is  barely  respectful.^  He  began 
by  expressing  his  astonishment  that  she  should  write  to  him 
at  the  request  of  the  laird  of  Wedderburn  ; — he  knew  nothing 
of  the  Humes,  nor  where  they  were.  Then  referring  to  the 
murder  of  La  Bastie,  which  strangely  enough  had  not  been 
openly  mentioned  in  Margaret's  letter,  he  expressed  his  belief 
that  it  was  "of  a  sodendy."  He  warns  Angus  "not  to  lose 
himself  in  the  taking  of  a  light  way  with  the  said  laird  of 
Wedderburn,"  and  to  do  nothing  without  the  advice  of  his 
friends  in  Scotland  ; — expressions  which  can  hardly  bear  any 
other  construction  than  that  Angus  had  meditated,  with  the 
help  of  the  Humes  to  obtain  the  government  during  Albany's 
absence,  and  in  common  with  Margaret  had  imagined  that 
the  slaughter  of  La  Bastie  had  been  i^lanned  with  a  view  to 
their  interests,  not  without  Dacre's  cognizance. 

The  cause  of  the  Humes  was  ruined  for  ever.  Francis  I. 
was  then  in  secret  communication  with  Wolsey  for  a  stricter 
union  between  the  two  crowns  ;  and  on  hearing  of  the  death 
of  his  ambassador,  he  dictated  an  energetic  remonstrance  to 
the  States  of  Scotland.^     The  States  wrote  word  that  nothing 

'  In  a  place  called  to  this  day,  in  memory  of  the  deed,  Battifs  Bog, 
2  II.  3713.  ^  II.  4048. 


1517.]  KUIN   OF   THE   HUMES.  225 

had  ever  ^-ieved  tliem  more  since  the  death  of  their  late  Iving. 
They  had  ah-eady  taken  measures  for  punishing  the  offenders 
before  the  receipt  of  his  letters,  and  had  summoned  a  Parlia- 
ment for  that  purpose : — all  the  Humes  had  been  declared 
traitors ;  their  lands  and  goods  forfeited  ;  one  had  been  caught, 
hung,  di-awn,  and  quartered  ;  the  rest  had  fled  to  England,  and 
were  sheltered  there  in  violation  of  the  truce.  A  demand  had 
been  made  for  their  sm-render,  which  Henry  had  refused. 
Naturally  Dacre  was  anxious  to  free  himself  from  all  suspicion 
of  harbouring  such  delinquents. 


VOL.  I. 


226  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DOMESTIC    HISTORY. 

Great  was  the  contrast  which  England  offered  in  this  respect 
to  the  sister  kingdom,  and  Margaret  might  well  return  to 
Scotland  with  a  sigh.  In  England  there  was  no  trouble  or 
dissension ;  there  she  was  accustomed  to  behold  a  wealthy 
and  obedient  people,  a  submissive  clergy,  a  court  where 
nothing  seemed  to  rule  except  an  unbroken  round  of  pleasure ; 
splendid  amusements,  masques,  decorations,  jewellery,  inlaid 
armour ;  cards  and  dice,  ducats  and  crowns  in  great  silver 
bowls,  luxuries  for  which  money  was  always  forthcoming 
when  needed.  All  these  delights  must  have  appeared  to  her 
bewildered  imagination,  in  contrast  to  her  own  poverty  as 
Queen  of  Scotland,  like  the  realization  of  Aladdin's  wonderful 
lamp.  I  have  stated  before^  that  the  King  had  the  entire 
and  exclusive  control  of  the  money  j)aid  into  the  Exchequer. 
He  had  nothing  to  do  except  sign  a  warrant  to  John  Heron, 
the  treasurer  of  the  Chamber,  and  whatever  sums  were  in  the 
hands  of  the  receivers  of  the  revenue  were  instantly  paid  over 
to  the  King's  use.  There  was  no  Admiralty  to  control  the 
navy  or  regulate  its  expenses  ;  no  commander-in-chief  or  pay- 
master-general of  the  army.  All  such  offices,  or  their  modern 
substitutes,  were  combined  in  the  King's  person,  and  he 
regulated  at  his  own  will  the  finances  connected  with  them. 
If  ships  were  to  be  built,  he  built  them  out  of  his  privy  purse ; 
if  armies  were  to  be  raised,  they  were  raised  by  the  same 
means.  The  country  was  called  upon  for  loans  and  subsidies, 
and  the  Parliament  determined  on  the  amount ;  but  it  never 
presumed  to  regulate  the  expenditure  of  the  money  so 
collected,  or  even  dictate  how  it  should  be  applied.  If  the 
reader  will  turn  to  the  remarkable  document,  entitled  "The 
King's  Book  of  Payments,"^  he  will  see  this  subject  more 
clearly  at  a  glance  than  it  could  be  explained  to  him  by  the 

1  See  p.  69.  «  See  II.  pp.  1441-80. 


1509-16.]  THE   KING'S   EXPENDITUKE.  227 

most  laborious  descrii3tion.  On  comparing  the  two  years  of 
\Yar,  1512,  1513,  followed  by  1514,  with  three  years  of  peace 
and  subsidizing  of  foreign  powers,  like  Maximilian  and  the 
Swiss,  the  account  wdll  be  found  to  stand  as  follows : — Sum 
total  of  all  expenditure  in  1512  was  286,269L  ;  in  1513  it  rose 
to  699,714L  ;  in  1514  it  declined  to  155,757L  ;  in  1515  to 
74,007^. ;  ^  in  1516  it  rose  again,  from  circumstances  stated  in 
the  note,  to  130,779/. ;  ^  but  sunk  in  1517  to  78,887/.^  This 
extraordinary  reduction  of  expenditure  from  the  moment  that 
Wolsey  came  into  power  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  feats 
of  his  administration,  and  shows  how  entirely  it  has  been 
misunderstood  by  modern  historians.  It  must  be  remembered 
also  that  all  the  expenses  of  Tournay  are  included  in  these 
latter  years,  with  the  loans  to  Queen  Margaret,  presents  to 
ambassadors,  and  the  establishment  for  Princess  Mary.  The 
King  too  had  acquired  in  the  latter  years  a  habit  of  helping 
himself  to  heavy  sums,  for  his  own  use,  without  accounting 
for  the  mode  of  their  expenditure.  In  May,  1515,  he  took 
3,000Z.,  in  August  3,000/.,  and  again  in  December  6,000/.  ;  in 
June,  1516,  2,000/.,  and  again  in  October  3,000/, ;  in  March, 
1517,  3,000/. ;  in  December,  1518,  2,000.^  How  these  sums 
were  employed  it  would  be  useless  to  speculate.  They  were 
received  by  Sir  William  Compton,  the  chief  gentleman  of  the 
King's  bedchamber,  "  for  the  King's  use,"  and  formed  no  part 
of  the  regular  expenses  for  the  household,  the  entertainment 
of  ambassadors,  secret  or  public  service-money,  all  of  which 
are  entered  at  full.  The  sums  disbursed  for  alms,  jewellery, 
l)late,  arms,  horses,  saddlery,  the  tilt-yard,  Christmas  boxes, 
and  new  year's  gifts,  are  also  accounted  for.  In  1515  the 
money  paid  for  silks  and  velvets,  not  including  minor  items, 
exceeded  5,000/.,  for  plate  and  jewellery  1,500/. ;  in  January, 
1515,  for  pearls,  566/. ;  in  December,  1516,  for  pearls  and 
diamonds,  596/. ;  in  October,  1518,  for  sables,  290/.  I  can 
only  infer,  therefore,  that  the  large  sums  mentioned  above 
were  laid  out  in  personal  luxuries  or  expenditure,  of  which 
the  King  and  his  attendants  chose  to  give  no  detailed  account. 
His  presents  to  ambassadors  were  on  a  most  magnificent  scale. 
To   the   Duke   of    Longueville,   he    gave    in    August,    1514, 

'  From  this  Bum  6,000L  are  to  be  at  Toarnay,  11,5391.  for  ordnance  and 

dodacted    for    war    expenses    in    the  simihir  items. 

previous  years,  and  4,000i.  as  a  loan  ^  From    tliis    sum    13, .333?.    to    bo 

to  Cavallary.  deducted  as  a  loan  to  Charles  of  Spain. 

*  Including  6,000i.  lent  to  SuCEclk,  *  In   October  this   year    he  spent 

26,000f.forPaceandWinKfield,  5,000/,.  1,000/.    at  play,  and   20/.  the  montli 

for  war  expenses,  10,000/.  for  citadel  before. 


228  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

2,083L  ;  ^  to  the  Prince  of  Castile's  ambassadors  in  July,  1517, 
200Z.,  and  560Z.  in  plate  in  the  September  following ;  to  the 
French  King's  gentlemen  in  October,  8001.,  and  1,829L  in 
plate  ;  to  the  Cardinal  of  Sion,  in  Norember,  1518,  333L  6.s.  8d. 
There  was  the  same  love  of  splendour,  and  the  same  disregard 
of  economy,  shown  in  his  amusements.^  New  year's  gifts, 
revels  at  court,  tournaments,  masques,  balls,  and  interludes 
form  a  considerable  item  in  the  royal  expenditure.  Of  these 
many  curious  accounts  will  be  found  in  the  Calendar  of 
Henry  VIII.  at  the  close  of  the  second  volume.  I  can  only 
afford  space  for  two,  and  must  apologize  to  my  readers  for 
entering  into  these  minute  details. 

The  first  is  a  Christmas  festivity  held  at  Westminster  in 
1511.  The  writer  makes  no  distinction  between  the  antelope 
and  the  olyvant  (elephant),  as  one  of  the  supporters  of  the 
royal  arms.^ 

On  the  12  and  13  Feb.,  2  Hen.  VIII.,  a  jonst  of  honor  was  held  by  the 
King,  with  three  aids,  at  Westminster.  A  forest  was  constructed  within 
the  house  of  Black  Friars,  Ludgate,  26  ft.  long,  16  ft.  broad,  9  ft.  high, 
garnished  with  artificial  "  liawthorns,  oaks,  maples,  hazels,  birches,  fern, 
broom,  and  furze,  with  beasts  and  birds  embossed  of  sundry  fashion,  with 
foresters  sitting  and  going  on  the  top  of  the  same,  and  a  castle  in  the  said 
forest,  with  a  maiden  sitting  thereby  with  a  garland,  and  a  lion  of  great 
statiire  and  bigness,  with  an  antelope  of  like  proportion,  after  his  kind, 
drawing  the  said  pageant  or  forest,  conducted  with  men  in  woodwoos'  * 
apparel,  and  two  maidens  sitting  on  the  said  two  beasts.  In  the  which 
forest  were  four  men  of  arms,  riding,  that  issued  out  at  times  ajapointed  ; 
and  on  every  of  the  four  quarters  of  the  forest  were  the  arms  of  the  four 
knights  challengers.  And  for  the  second  day  were  provided  and  made  four 
rich  pavilions,  one  crowned,  the  other  three  with  balls  of  burnished  gold." 

For  this  pageant  the  following  articles  were  required  :  2T  ft.  of  fine 
oak  for  mules  and  other  beasts.  78  alder  poles  for  the  body  of  the  forest 
and  great  beasts,  and  the  closures  of  the  haU  door  at  Westminster.  10 
bundles  of  ci'own  paper  for  moulding  beasts,  the  faces  of  the  lion  and 
antelope,  &c.  ;  7  reams  of  white  Geen  paper,  for  lining  the  sarcenet  that 
the  leaves  were  made  of,  and  for  covering  the  rocks.  6  fir  trees.  4  masts 
for  enclosing  the  hall  door.  1  lb.  of  Spanish  brown  for  coloring  the 
beasts.  1  lb.  of  orpiment.  2  doz.  green  "schyng"  paper,  for  mixing  with 
the  ivy  and  the  woodwos'  heads  and  staves.  5  doz.  of  gold  paper  for  the 
castle,  and  the  body  and  legs  of  the  lion.  1  lb.  of  vermilion  for  the 
mouths  of  the  lion  and  antelope,  &c.  Canvas  of  Normandy,  16  ells  for 
the  lion  and  olj^ant  ;  9  ells  for  lining  the  woodwos'*apparel.  5  bushels  of 
wheat  flour,  for  paste.  4  st.  neat's  tallow.  5(>  doz.  silver  paper.  2  doz. 
embossed  birds.  2,400  turned  acorns  and  hazelnuts,  118  lbs.  orsade  for 
flossing  and  casing  the  lion,  etc.  Holly  boughs,  fennel  stalks,  broom 
stalks,  &c.  planted  with  sarcenet  flowers  and  leaves.  6  doz.  silk  roses, 
wrought  by  the  maiden  into  a  garland,  and  delivered  to  the  queen  when 

•  Not    including     500L     to    John  ^  rpj^^    extracts   which    follow   are 

Clarke,  who  took  him  prisoner.  from  the  Calendar.    Only  where  quota- 

^  Various  references  occur  to  the  tion   marks   are  nsed   is    the    precise 

King's  stud  and  his  deer ;  some  to  a  language   of   the  original   documents 

tame  leopard  :    but  none  to  dogs    or  followed, 
falcons,  so  far  as  I  can  remember.  *  Wild  men  of  the  woods  ;  savages. 


1516.]  PAGEANTS.  229 

the  jousts  began.  4  lbs.  of  iron  wire  for  the  lions  and  olyvant's  tails. 
6  backs  of  tanned  leather  for  the  chains  that  the  lion  and  the  antelope 
drew  the  forest  with.  Gold  for  gilding  the  antelope's  horns,  crowns,  &c. 
3  coifs  of  Venice  gold,  for  the  maiden  in  the  forest,  and  those  that  rode 
on  the  lion  and  the  olyvant.  4  oz.  Tenice  ribbon  for  girdles  and  the 
garland  presented  to  the  queen.  Ivy  for  the  woodwos'  heads,  belts,  and 
staves.  4  vizors  for  the  woodwos  who  conducted  the  forest.  3  lbs.  of 
booellarmanyake  (bole  Armeniac).  Green  sarcenet,  for  the  boughs  of  the 
forest,  26  ft.  long,  10  ft.  broad,  and  9  ft.  high,  153  yds. ;  lining  a  pavilion 
for  the  King,  42  yds. ;  for  12  hawthorns,  44  yds. ;  12  oaks,  44  yds. ; 
10  maples,  36  yds. ;  12  hazels,  32  yds. ;  10  birches,  32  yds. ;  16  doz.  fern 
roots  and  branches,  64  yds. ;  50  broom  stalks,  58  yds. ;  16  furze  bushes, 
33  yds. ;  lining  the  maiden's  sleeves,  2f  yds. ;  total,  542  yds.  Yellow 
sarcenet  for  broom  and  furze  flowers,  22  yds.  Russet  sarcenet  for  the  4 
woodwos'  garments,  shred  like  locks  of  hair  or  wool,  48  yds.  Russet 
damask,  spent  by  Edmund  Skill,  tailor,  for  kirtles  of  the  maiden  in  the 
forest,  and  on  the  lion  and  "  olj'vant,"  10  yds.  Yellow  damask  for  the 
maidens  on  the  lion  and  "  antlope,"  10  yds.  Blue  velvet  for  a  pavilion  for 
the  king,  36  yds.  Blue  and  crimson  damask  for  pavilions.  1  yd.  of  blue 
sarcenet  for  a  banner  in  the  forest.  "  Spent  and  employed  on  the  said 
four  pavilions  for  jioints  to  stay  the  hoops,  which  points  were  spent, 
stolen  and  wasted  at  the  siege  of  Terouenne,  at  the  receiving  of  the 
Emperor,  for  the  said  pavilions  did  the  king  royal  service  to  his  honor." 
To  Edmund  Skill,  for  making  the  apparel  for  the  maiden  in  the  forest, 
those  on  the  lion  and  the  antelope  ^  and  the  woodwos,  42«.  lOd. 

' '  Thys  forrest  or  pageant  after  the  usance  had  into  Westmester  gret 
Hall,  and  by  the  kynges  gard  and  other  gentyllmen  rent,  brokyn,  and  by 
fors  kariyed  away,  and  the  poor  men  that  wer  set  to  kep,  theyr  beds 
brokjai  two  of  them,  and  the  remnant  put  ther  from  with  foors,  so  that 
noon  ther  of  byt  the  baar  t5anbyr  cum  near  to  the  kynges  ews  nor  stoor. 

' '  The  second  day  the  4  jjavelyuns  wer  savyd  to  the  kynges  ews  and 
profyd  with  meche  payn. 

"Memorandum,  That  the  kynges  graas  at  hys'town  of  Kales  cummandyd 
me  Rechard  Gybson  to  kut  oon  of  the  sayd  pavelyuns,  and  so  yt  was  and 
maad  an  hangyng  for  an  hows  of  tymbyr  of  Flandyrs  werke.  And  at  the 
seege  of  Tyrwyen  the  sayd  hows  was  geyvn  by  the  kynges  graas  to  my  Lord 
of  Wynchester,  with  tlie  saam  hangyng  so  mad  of  the  saam  pavelyun." 

The  other  belongs  to  1516,  and  is  as  follows: — 

The  king  being  at  Eltham,  Christmas,  7  Hen.  VIII. ,  instructions  were 
issued  to  Richard  Gibson,  by  Mr.  Wm.  Cornish  and  the  master  of  the 
revels,  to  prepare  a  castle  of  tindjer  in  the  King's  hall,  garnished  after  such 
devises  as  shall  ensue.  Cornish  and  the  children  of  the  chapel  also  per- 
formed "the  story  of  Troylous  and  Pandor  richly  apparelled,  also  Kallkas 
and  Kryssyd  apparelled  like  a  widow  of  honour,  in  black  sarcenet  and 
other  habiliments  for  such  matter  ;  Dyomed  and  the  Greeks  apparelled 
like  men  of  war,  according  to  the  intent  or  purpose.  After  which  comedy 
played  and  done,  a  herald  cried  and  made  an  oy  tliat  three  strange  knights 
were  come  to  do  battle  with  [those]  of  the  said  castle  ;  out  [of]  which 
issued  three  men  of  arms  with  jjunching  spears,  ready  to  do  feats  at  the 
barriers,  apparelled  in  white  satin  and  green  satin  of  Bruges,  bned  with 
green  sarcenet  and  white  sarcenet,  and  the  satin  cut  thereon.  To  the  said 
three  men  of  arms  entered  other  three  men  of  arms  with  like  weapons, 
and  apparelled  in  slops  of  red  sarcenet  and  yellow  sarcenet,  and  witli  .spears 
made  certain  strokes  ;  and  after  that  done,  with  naked  swords  fought  a 
fair  battle  of  twelve  strokes,  and  so  departed  of  force.  Then  out  of  the 
castle  issued  a  queen,  and  with  her  six  ladies,  with  speeches  after  the 

'  Correction  from  "  Olyvant." 


230  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

device  of  Mr.  Cornisli ;  and  after  this  done,  seven  minstrels  apparelled  in 
long  garments,  and  bonnets  to  the  same,  of  satin  of  Bruges,  white  and 
green, 1  on  the  walls  and  towers  of  the  said  castle  played  a  melodious  song. 
Then  came  out  of  tlie  castle  six  lords  and  gentlemen  apparelled  in  garments 
of  white  satin  of  Bruges  and  green,  broidered  with  counterfeit  stuff  of 
Flanders  making,  as  brooches,  ouches,  spangs,  and  such  ;  and  also  six 
ladies  apparelled  in  six  garments  of  rich  satin,  white  and  green,  set  with 
H  and  K  of  yellow  satin,  pointed  togetlier  with  points  of  Kolen  gold. 
These  six  garments  for  ladies  were  of  the  King's  store,  newly  repaired. 
All  the  said  ladies  heads  apparelled  with  loose  gold  of  damask,  as  well  as 
with  woven  fiat  gold  of  damask,  &c."  The  garments  were  prepared  and 
brought  to  Eltham  for  Epiphany  night  and  New  Year's  night. 

Bought  of  Wm.  Botre  and  Mr.  Thorstoon,  265|  yds.  white  and  green 
satin,  for  garments  for  ladies,  a  doublet  for  one  of  the  chapel  children 
who  played  Eulyxes.  5  yds.  red  satin.  27  yds.  yellow  satin  for  Cornish 
and  the  ladies  of  the  castle.  51|  yds.  red  and  yellow  sarcenet  for  three 
Greek  robes,  a  double  cloak  for  Troylous,  a  mantle  and  bishop's  surcoat 
for  Cornish  to  play  Killkass  in.  27i  yds.  white  and  green  sarcenet. 
Black  sarcenet  for  a  surcoat,  mantle  and  widow's  hood  for  Kressyd,  and  a 
garment  for  Cornish  when  he  played  the  herald,  &c.  2  pieces  Florence 
cotton  for  Kressyd.  12  pieces  Cyprus  for  the  lady  who  played  Faith.  7 
ells  Holland  cloth  for  short  wide  sleeves  for  Dyomed  and  his  fellows. 
10  oz.  copper  ribbon  and  12  doz.  silk  points  for  binding  7  ladies'  collars, 
coats  for  minstrels,  and  for  Troylous,  Pandor,  Dyomed,  Eulyxes,  and 
others.  1  qu.  1  nail  velvet  for  shoes  for  Troylous.  10  hand  staves  for 
barriers.  G  morions.  6  swords  for  "the  men  of  arms  that  battled  in 
presence  as  for  the  departers  with  4  odd  staves."  To  Cornish,  for  a 
feather  for  Troylous,  Spanish  girdles,  itc,  13s.  4(1.  For  a  barber  "  for 
there  heer  trimming  and  washing  of  their  heads,"  4(i.  To  the  tailor, 
6/.  9s.  10(1  For  a  cart  to  carry  the  stuft"  to  Eltham,  and  "hys  abod," 
3  days  and  nights,  8s.  4(1. 

Expenses  of  garments. — To  Cornish,  a  mantle,  a  surcoat  of  yellow 
sarcenet,  a  coat  armour,  a  garment  of  black  sarcenet,  and  a  bonnet.  To 
the  two  children,  Troylous  and  Pandor,  9  satin  doublets,  2  jackets  of  the 
old  store,  a  double  cloak  of  sarcenet.  To  Kryssyd,  a  mantle,  a  surcoat, 
and  cottons  and  wimple.  To  gentlemen,  6  crimson  satin  bonnets. 
3  bases  and  Greek  robes  to  men  at  arms.  7  coats  and  bonnets  of  satin  to 
minstrels.  A  gown  of  white  green  and  satin  to  Mr.  Harry  of  the  chapel. 
To  the  seven  ladies  of  the  castle,  seven  gowns  of  satin  of  Bruges,  with 
their  headdresses.  To  the  six  ladies  of  the  court  who  disguised,  their 
headdresses  and  stomachers  of  crimson  satin.  The  feather  that  Troylous 
wore.  All  the  girdles,  spears,  swords,  and  targets.  To  the  taborets, 
2  jackets  of  the  store. 

Number  of  persons  for  the  play. — 15  for  the  castle  ;  7  ladies  ; 
7  minstrels  ;  6  lords  and  gentlemen  and  6  ladies  disguised  ;  6  men  at 
arms  ;  3  tamboreens. 

This  is  admirable  fooling. 

Hitherto  Henry's  reign  had  been  one  of  uninterrupted 
prosperity.  He  was  the  most  popular,  the  most  wealthy,  the 
most  envied  of  monarehs.  His  ambassadors  boasted  with 
reason,  that  no  king  was  more  beloved  by  his  subjects  or 
more  readily  obeyed  than  he.  Possessed  of  vast  royal 
demesnes,  he  could  gratify  his  love  of  pleasure,  his  taste,  his 
magnificence,  without  stint.     Never  engaged  but  once  in  a 

^  White  and  green  were  the  Tudor  liveries. 


1516.]  PRIVATE  LIFE   OF  THE  KING.  231 

continental  war,  and  that  at  no  great  distance,  still  less  in 
that  ruinous  game  of  ambition  on  which  Francis  I.  expended 
his  energies  and  his  treasures,  Henry  VIII.  had  no  occasion 
*'  to  j)ill  and  poll  his  subjects  ;  "  and  his  rule  formed  a  striking 
contrast  to  that  of  the  impoverished  Maximilian,  and  the 
famished  and  grasping  policy  of  Charles.  Whatever  vices  or 
mistakes  may  have  clouded  his  latter  years,  they  had  not  yet 
made  their  appearance.  Compared  with  the  licentiousness  of 
Francis  I.,  his  life  was  a  pattern  of  temperance  and  purity. 
Constant  he  was  not  to  his  marriage  vow  ;  but  his  departures 
from  it  were  neither  frequent  nor  notorious.  The  French 
ambassador  wrote  home,  that  "  he  was  a  youngster  who 
cared  for  nothing  but  girls  and  hunting,  and  wasted  his 
father's  patrimony."  ^  Such  scandals  are  not  to  be  received 
implicitly ;  ambassadors  wrote  home  what  they  thought  would 
please  their  own  courts,  without  much  concern  for  the 
accuracy  of  their*  information.  Often  ignorant  of  the  real 
feelings  of  the  court  and  the  nation  to  which  they  were 
accredited,  generally  ignorant  of  its  language,  exposed  more 
than  others  to  imposition,  and  fed  with  tales  by  those  who 
knew  their  humour,  or  were  purposely  set  on  to  mislead 
them,-~6olitary  and  unsupported  anecdotes  repeated  in  their 
despatches  must  not  be  implicitly  accepted,  unless  they  are 
crossed  and  supported  by  other  and  indejiendent  lines  of 
evidence.  Not  frequently  in  the  absence  of  better  news,  they 
were  authorized  retailers  of  gossip,  intended  quite  as  much  to 
amuse  as  to  instruct  their  respective  courts.  In  this  instance, 
the  scandal  of  the  French  ambassador  receives  no  support 
from  the  Venetian  or  the  private  correspondence  of  the  times. 
Notwithstanding  his  frequent  disappointments,  the  King  is 
represented  as  treating  Katharine  uniformly  with  kindness 
and  respect.  If  he  felt  any  dissatisfaction,  he  took  care  not 
to  express  it  by  word  or  sign.  And  her  affectionate  solicitude 
for  him,  especially  in  the  time  of  the  "  sweating  sickness,"  is 
a  satisfactory  proof  that  hitherto  the  love  between  them  had 
continued  unimpaired. 

The  birth  of  the  Princess  Mary^  threw  the  Queen  into  the 
shade, — I  am  inclined  to  think  not  unwillingly  on  her  part. 
Her  happiness  at  this,  the  most  joyous  event  in  her  ill-starred 
life,  was  clouded  by  the  death  of  her  father  Ferdinand;  of  him, 
who,  next  to  herself,  would  have  been  most  interested  in  the 
event.     The  news  of  his  death  was  studiously  concealed  from 

>  II.  1105.  ^  Feb.  18,  1516. 


232  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

her,^  in  dread  of  the  ill  effect  it  might  produce ;  and  if  any- 
thing could  have  tended  to  augment  her  melancholy,  it  must 
have  been  the  thought  that  the  only  child  which  survived  of 
all  her  offspring  was  ushered  into  the  world  in  a  season  of 
mourning.  As  for  Henry  himself,  though  he  would  fain  have 
had  a  boy,  he  solaced  himself  in  his  usual  buoyant  style  : 
"Domine  orator,"  he  said  to  the  Venetian  ambassador,  who 
had  come  to  congratulate  him  on  the  occasion,  and  express 
regret  that  it  had  not  been  a  Prince,  "  we  are  both  young  ;  if 
it  be  a  girl  this  time,  by  the  grace  of  God,  boys  will  follow." 
Mary  was  christened  three  days  after  her  bu'th,  on  Wednesday, 
20th  of  February,  1516,  and  had  for  her  godfather  Cardinal 
Wolsey.^  The  silver  font  was  brought  from  the  cathedral  of 
Canterbury  to  Greenwich,  for  the  ceremony.^  Henry,  always 
fond  of  children,  was  fond  and  proud  of  his  daughter  to 
excess.  When  she  was  not  more  than  two  years  old,*  he 
carried  her  about  in  his  arms  in  the  presence  chamber,  before 
the  lords  and  ladies  of  the  court  and  the  foreign  ambassadors. 
Even  at  this  early  period  of  her  life,  Mary  displayed  that  love 
of  music  in  which  she  was  afterwards  so  great  a  proficient ; — 
the  passion  of  her  whole  family.^  The  Venetian  ambassador, 
who  had  introduced  an  Italian  friar,  named  Memo,  to  the 
King,  for  his  great  musical  talents,  gives  a  charming  account 
of  his  interview  with  the  little  Princess  at  one  of  the  court 
receptions. 

"After  this  conversation,  his  Majesty  caused  the  princess, 
his  daughter,  who  is  two  years  old,  to  be  brought  into  the 
apartment  where  we  were ;  whereupon  the  right  reverend 
Cardinal  (Wolsey)  and  I,  and  all  the  other  lords,  kissed  her 
hand,  pro  more ; — the  greatest  marks  of  honor  being  paid  her 
universallj^,  more  than  to  the  queen  herself.  The  moment 
she  cast  her  eyes  on  the  reverend  Dionj^sius  Memo,  who  was 
there,  she  commenced  calling  out  in  English,  Priest,  priest : 
and  he  was  obliged  to  go  and  play  for  her ;  after  which  the 
king  with  the  princess  in  his  arms,  came  to  me  and  said : 
*  Per  Deum  iste  (Memo)  est  honestissimus  vir  et  unus  carissimus ; 
nullus  unquam  servivit  mihi  melius  isto.'  "® 

'  II.  1563.  references  to  musical  instruments  and 

'  II.  1573.  books  pui-chased  by  the  King. 

3  II.  p.  1470.  ^  II.  3976.     Her  New  Year's  gifts 

*  Henry's  court  must  not  be  judged  in  1518  were,  a  gold  cup  from  Wolsey, 

by  courts  and   reception-rooms  now.  a    gold    pomander    from    Mary   the 

It  was  far  more  easy,  gracious,  and  French  Queen,  a  gold  spoon  from  Lady 

domestic.  Devonshire,    and    two    smocks    from 

^  At  the  close  of  volume  II.  of  the  Lady  Mountjoy  (p.  1476). 
Calendar,  the  reader  will  find  numerous 


1516-18.]     PATRONAGE  OF  AET  AND  LETTERS.        233 

These  brilliant  and  halcyon  days  seemed  the  more  brilliant 
from  the  contrast  they  presented  to  the  troubled  rule  of  other 
sovereigns.  So  the  years  ran  smoothly  on.  The  amusements 
at  court  were  diversified  by  hunting  and  out-door  exercises  in 
the  morning ;  in  the  afternoon  by  Memo's  music,  by  the  con- 
secration and  distribution  of  cramp-rings,  or  the  inventing  of 
plasters  and  compounding  of  medicines — an  occupation  in 
which  the  King  took  unusual  pleasure.  A  manuscript  ^  is  pre- 
served in  the  British  Museum,  entitled  Dr.  Butts'  Diary, 
containing  a  variety  of  liniments  and  cataplasms  devised  by 
his  Majesty; — chiefly  for  excoriations  or  ulcers  in  the  legs, 
a  disease  common  in  those  days,  and  from  which  the  King 
himself  suffered,  and  eventually  died.  Had  these  complaints 
been  confined  to  laymen,  they  might  have  been  attributed  to 
gross  feeding  and  the  chafing  of  armour ;  but  notices  of  them 
occur  repeatedly,  in  all  classes,  without  distinction.^ 

Erasmus  describes  in  glowing  terms  the  court  of  Henry  as 
a  Musgeum  of  letters  and  learning, — a  polite  academy,  where 
arts  and  sciences  flourished  under  liberal  patronage.  Queen 
Katharine  was  a  miracle  of  learning  and  piety;  the  King 
took  more  delight  in  reading  good  books  than  any  prince  of 
his  age.  The  eulogy,  though  perhaps  highly  coloured,  was 
not  wholly  undeserved.  The  advancement  of  men  of  learning 
and  genius  to  posts  about  the  King  and  to  high  offices  in  the 
state,  justified  in  a  great  measure  the  praises  of  Erasmus. 
Among  the  favourite  preachers  were  Dean  Colet  and  Grocyn 
(More's  friend) ;  Linacre  was  physician.  More  privy  councillor, 
Pace  secretary,  Tuustal  Master  of  the  Eolls. 

As  we  proceed,  notices  occur  of  more  serious  employments 
than  gambling  at  cards  or  devising  masques.     On  the  2'lth  of 

*  MS.   Sloane,    1047.     Among  the  wich,  to  cool  and  let   inflammations, 

contents  are: — "  The  king's  Majesty's  and   take    away   itch."     Besides   the 

own    plaster. — A   plaster   devised   by  king's    recipes,    there    are    others   by 

the  king  to  heal  ulcers  without  pain,  John  de  Vigo,  Dr.  Buttes,  Dr.  Chamber, 

made  with  pearl  and  lignum  guaiacum.  Dr.  Augustine,  and  Dr.  Cromer.     Most 

— Plaster    devised    by    the    king    at  of    them    are    dated    at    Greenwich, 

Greenwich,  and  made  at  Westminster,  Westminster,   St.    James's,   Ampthill, 

to  heal  excoriations.    At  Westminster,  Fotheringay,       Cawoode,       Hain])ton 

by  the  same,  to  heal  swellings  in  the  Court,  Petworth,  Dover,  Canterbury, 

ancles."  Knolles,  and  the  More.     I  do  not  find 

It  is  observable  in  these  medica-  that  Houry  over  dabbled  in  alchemy, 

ments,    how    many  apply   to    various  the   i-oyal  amusement  of   the  Scotch 

kinds  of  excoriation  and  ulcers  in  the  kings.     The  difference  of  the  national 

legs.     One  is  exceedingly  curious   (f.  tastes  and  characters  may  bo  seen  in 

32  b.)  : — "  A  plaster  for  my  lady  Anno  tlie  diflerent  employments  of  tlu^  two 

of    Cleves,    to    mollify    and    resolve,  sovereigns. 

comfort  and  cease  pain  of  cold  and  *  E.g.  West,  Bishop  of  Ely,  Comp- 

windy  causes."    Another  is,  "  an  oint-  ton     (11.    13H),    Jerningimni     (2581), 

ment  devised  by  his  Majesty  at  Green-  Wiuglield  (3001),  Puco  (I'JUU). 


234  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

June,  1518,  Pace  writes  to  "VVolsey  that  tlie  King  was  pleased 
wdtli  the  commendations  given  to  liis  hook  by  the  Cardinal ;  and 
though  he  does  not  think  it  worthy  such  praise  as  it  had  from 
him  and  all  other  great  learned  men,  yet  he  is  very  glad  "  to 
have  noted  in  your  Grace's  letters  that  Ids  reasons  he  called 
inevitahle,   considering   that    your   Grace    ivas    some   time   his 
adversary  herein,  and  of  contrary  opinion ;  "—a  passage  well 
worth  observing.     The  same  statement  is  repeated  by  Pace 
four  days  afterwards.     Now,  though  the  word  hook  is  used 
frequently  to   imply  a  paper   of  political  instructions  or   a 
written  agreement,^  in  its  connection  here  with  the  praises  of 
learned  men,  it  seems  to  me  impossible  that  it  can  be  employed 
in  any  other  than  in  its  modern  meaning.     If  so,  the  book  to 
which  Pace  refers  must  be  the  draft  of  the  King's  book  against 
Luther,  which    appeared  in  1521.     The  letters  of  Erasmus 
show  the  rapid  progress  of  Lutheran  opinions,  even  at  this 
early  date  ;   and  "  swarms  of  books  "  were  now  pouring  from 
the  press  on  the  great  questions  soon  destined  to  engross  the 
minds  of  men  exclusively.     Though  little  or  no  reference  is 
made  to  Luther  in  the  English  corres^Dondence  at  this  early 
date,  and  Lutheranism  appears   to  have  been  then   almost 
unknown  in  England,  Erasmus  thought  it  necessary  to  dis- 
avow to  Wolsey'^  not   only  all   friendship   for    the    German 
reformer,   but   all   personal   acquaintance   with   him.      That 
letter  ought  to  be  studied ;  for  it  shows  that  the  King's  book 
grappled  with  those  points  especially  on  which  the  minds  of 
people  were  most   disturbed.     The   correspondence   of  Pace 
invalidates  the  supposition  that  he  or  More,  or  both  conjointly, 
were  the  real  authors  of  the  book.     They  may  have  assisted 
in  its  composition,  especiall}^  in  correcting  the  Latin  style,  but 
had  they  been  the  authors  of  it  Pace  would  scarcely  have  held 
the  language  he  did  to  Wolsey. 

But  the  cloud  was  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand — if  a 
cloud  at  all.  Erasmus  might  be  alarmed  at  the  new  tone  and 
noisy  scurrility  which  burst  upon  his  ears,  so  foreign  to  his 
notions  of  dignified  scholarship  and  literary  refinement.  He 
might  think  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  left  the  friars 
in  undisturbed  possession  of  the  pulpit,  and  for  the  canonists 
to  bemuse  themselves  in  extravagant  admiration  of  the 
Decretals.^     But  to  the  majority  of  the  world,  and  to  our  own 

*  So  Shakspeare  uses  it :  "  Our  ^  "  0  seraphic  Sextus,  continued 
book  is  drawn  ;  we'll  but  seal."  1  Homenas,  how  necessary  ai'e  you  to 
Henry  IV.act  iii.  1.  tlie    salvation    of    jjoor   mortals  !      O 

*  II.  41  63.  cherubic  Clenaentines !  how  perfectly 


1518.]  INDULGENCES.  235 

nation  at  that  time,  it  seemed  no  more  tlian  a  passing  bra^vl 
between  two  friars — brawls  to  which  the  world  had  been 
accustomed,  and  which  wise  men  had  ceased  to  notice.  In- 
dulgences were  not  new  to  Europe.  They  were  not  even  the 
exclusive  invention  of  the  papal  court  for  raising  money ;  at 
all  events,  the  temporal  Sovereigns  of  Europe  joined  in  the 
plot  and  shared  the  spoils.  On  the  8th  of  December,  1515, 
Mountjoy  wrote  from  Tournay  to  Wolsey  to  tell  him,  "that 
a  commissary  had  come  from  the  Pope  with  great  indulgences 
for  the  helping  to  the  building  of  St.  Peter's."  As  nothing  of 
the  sort  might  be  published  without  the  sanction  of  the  King, 
Mountjoy  had  informed  the  commissary  that  he  would  not  be 
allowed  to  publish  his  brief,  "  but  such  alms  as  should  be 
given  were  to  be  put  in  a  box  with  two  keys,  of  which  he  was 
to  have  the  one,  and  Mountjoy  the  other."  The  Bishop  of 
Worcester,  ambassador  for  England  at  the  papal  court,  writes 
to  say,^  that  the  Poj^e  intended  sending  commissioners  to 
England  with  indulgences  for  the  same  purpose,  as  he  had  done 
to  France,  Germany,  and  Spain.  The  Bishop  told  his  Holiness 
that  such  a  practice  had  never  been  allowed  unless  the  King 
gave  his  consent  and  shared  the  profits.  The  Pope  offered 
a  fourth.  Worcester  says,  if  Wolsey  approve,  he  will  en- 
deavour to  obtain  a  third.  In  Spain  Charles  had  managed 
to  obtain  a  loan  of  175,000  ducats  from  the  commissioners,  in 
anticipation  of  the  amount  to  be  realized.  "  The  Pope,"  says 
Spinelly,^  "  has  granted  the  realms  of  Castile  indulgence  for 
three  years,  which  wiU  amount  to  more  than  800,000  ducats 
of  gold,  net."  "  For  here  the  common  people,  whether  they 
will  or  not,  be  compelled  to  take  it  for  a  certain  sum  of 
money,   and  the  commissioners   appointed  in  this   business 

the     perfect    institution    of     a    true  and  no  othci'wiso  than  then,  shall  the 

Christian  is  contained  and  described  world  be  universally  happy  i     *     *     * 

in  you  !     0  angelical  Extra vagantes  !  "  Oh  how  wonderfully  if  you  read 

how  many  jioor  souls  that  wander  up  but  a  demi-canon,  short  paragraph,  or 

and   down    in  mortal   bodies  through  single  observation  of  these  sacro-sanct 

this  vale  of  misery  would  perish  were;  Decretals  ; — how  wonderfully,  1  say, 

it  not  for  you!     When,  ah  when,  shall  do  you  perceive  yourself  to  kindle  iu 

this  special  gift  of  grace  be  bestowed  your  hearts  a  furnace  of  divine  love, 

on  mankind  as  to  lay  aside  all  other  charity  to  your  neighbour — provided 

studies  and  concerns,  to  use  you,  to  ho  be  not  a  heretic — bold  contempt 

peruse    you,    to    understand    you,    to  of  all  carnal  and  earthly  things,  uu- 

know  you  by  heart,  to  digest  you,  to  shaken  contentment  in  all  your  affec- 

incorporateyou,  to  turn  yon  into  blood,  tions,   and  cxstatic  elevation  of  soul 

and  incentre  you  in  the  deepest  von-  even  to  the  third  heaven  !  " — llabelais, 

tricles    of    their    brains,   the    inmost  iv.  51. 

marrow   of    their    bones,    and    most  '  April,  1517  ;    Calendar,   vol.  II. 

intricate  labyrinth  of  their  arteries  ?  Appendix. 

Then,  ah  then,  and  no  sooner  thau  then,  *  January  7,  1518. 


236  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

have  advanced  unto  the  King  by  manner  of  lent  (loan)  a 
175,000  ducats  ;  whose  (which)  commissioners  shall  have  for 
their  right  and  labour  a  penny  Flemish  for  every  bull,  and 
the  King  two  royals  of  silver  for  every  man;  that  is,  upon 
tenpence  English.  The  Pope  hath  had  in  ready  money  for 
such  grant  27,000  ducats,  and  10,000  restored  again  that  he 
had  lent  for  the  payment  of  the  footmen  in  Spain."  It  was 
the  same  in  France,  where  a  great  and  bitter  feud  raged 
between  the  King  and  the  Parliament.  The  necessities  of 
Francis  compelled  him,  like  Charles,  to  encourage  the  sale  of 
indulgences.  It  was  the  readiest  and  the  least  obnoxious 
means  of  raising  money.  "  The  king  of  France,"  writes  one,^ 
"has  gained  more  money  by  pardons  of  the  crusade  than  by 
all  his  exactions.  People  are  compelled  to  listen  to  these 
heretic  preachers '' — the  phrase  is  remarkable — "and  murmur 
everywhere.  They  preach  that  whoever  puts  10  sous  Tournois 
into  the  money-box  will  go  to  Paradise;  for  10  sous  apiece 
sins  shall  be  forgiven,  and  souls  escape  purgatory.  They  are 
opposed  by  the  University  and  doctors  of  theology ;  but  too 
late,  as  the  money  has  been  collected.  These  indulgences  are 
ruinous  to  princes  and  their  poor  subjects."  Such  passages 
as  these  throw  a  new  hght  on  that  event  which  led  to  such 
momentous  consequences.  The  sale  of  indulgences  was  a 
project  devised  between  the  temporal  and  spiritual  rulers  of 
Europe  for  collecting  subsidies  from  the  poor  and  the  labour- 
ing classes.  It  was  levelled  to  their  capacities  and  their 
means.^  By  the  old  and  estabhshed  system  of  trentals  and 
private  masses  the  delivery  of  souls  out  of  purgatory  and 
remission  of  sins  were  accessible  only  to  the  rich ;  now  when 
the  same  could  be  accomplished  at  10  sous  a  head,  that  was 
the  same  as  bringing  within  the  reach  of  the  poorest  a 
privilege  hitherto  exclusively  confined  to  their  more  fortunate 
brethren.  In  the  former  case  the  privilege  was  limited  to 
a  class  whose  growing  inteUigence  and  gradual  emancipation 
from  credulity,  added  to  other  causes,  had  brought  the 
practice  within  much  narrower  limits.  Now  there  was  to  be 
no  restriction  :  the  sale  of  pardons  was  to  descend  to  a  much 
wider  circle  ;  to  be  sanctioned  by  the  highest  authority  secular 
and  national ;  to  be  engrafted  without  stint  into  the  Church's 

*  December  1,  1517.  ihus  dentur  gratis  propter  Deum.  Wlien, 

*  Tetzel,  in  his  notices  affixed  to  however,  application  was  made  to  him 
the  church  doors,  had  given  out  that  by  a  poor  scholar  on  the  faith  of  this 
the  price  of  these  indulgences  should  clause,  Tetzel  refused  him,  and  re- 
be  relaxed ;  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  quired  a  small  fee — howerer  small, 
notice  this  clause  was  added :  pauper.  See  Loscher,  i.  306. 


151G-17.]  THE   SWEATING   SICKNESS.  237 

system ;  to  become  a  great  State  engine,  against  "which  resist- 
ance would  be  ineffectual.  So  the  preachers  of  indulgences 
"were  opposed  by  two  parties  for  their  novel  and  pernicious 
doctrines ; — they  were  condemned  for  illegal  exactions  by  the 
one,  and  denounced  as  heretics  by  the  other.  They  were 
everywhere  opposed  by  the  regular  clergy;  and  it  is  as 
heretics  and  novel  preachers  transgressing  the  teaching  of  the 
Chm-ch  that  Luther  wrote  to  the  Archbishop  of  Mayence  to 
interpose  his  authority  and  put  them  down.^ 

Just  at  this  time  two  scourges  were  beginning  to  threaten 
Christendom,  and  brought  men  to  more  serious  thoughts.  I 
refer  to  the  plague  and  the  sweating  sickness.  With  the  former 
I  am  not  concerned  at  present.  For  centuries  no  infection 
had  visited  England,  which  in  fearful  rapidity  and  malignancy 
could  be  compared  with  the  sudor  Anglicus,  as  it  was  at  first 
called,  from  the  notion  that  its  attacks  were  confined  to 
Englishmen,  People  sitting  at  dinner,  in  the  full  enjoyment 
of  health  and  spirits,  were  seized  with  it,  and  died  before  the 
next  morning.  An  open  window,  accidental  contact  in  the 
streets,  children  playing  before  the  door,  a  beggar  knocking 
at  the  rich  man's  gate,  might  disseminate  the  infection,  and 
a  whole  family  would  be  decimated  in  a  few  hours  without 
hope  or  remedy.  Houses  and  villages  were  deserted.  Where 
the  sickness  once  appeared,  precaution  was  unavailing ;  and 
flight  afforded  the  only  chance  of  security. 

Dr.  Caius,  a  jDhysician  who  had  studied  the  disease  under 
its  various  aspects,  gives  the  following  account  of  its  appear- 
ance : — 

"  In  the  year  of  our  Lord  God  1485,  shortly  after  the  7th  day  of 
August,  at  which  time  king  Henry  VII.  arrived  at  Milford  in  Wales  out 
of  France,  and  in  the  first  year  of  his  reign,   there  chanced  a  disease 

*  "  Papal  indulgences  are  hawked  Lnlher    to    the    Abp.    of    Mayence, 

about,  under  the  sanction  of  your  noble  October  31,  1517. 

name,  for  the  building  of  St.  Peter's.  For  what  sins  should  these  poor, 

I  do    not    complain    so  much    of  the  thrifty,     temperate,     German-Saxons 

preachers'  declamations,  which  I  have  require  indulgences  ?     The  oratory  of 

not   heard,  but   I  regret   tlio   utterly  Tctzcl  was  not  levelled  so  much  at  the 

mistaken  notions  of  the  populace  about  rich  and  hixurious,  nor  were  his  letters 

these  indulgences.     It  is  said  every-  purchased  by  the  educated.     The  sin 

where    that    whoever    has    purchased  of  sins  was,  trading  upon  the  new  and 

these    letters    of  indulgence  shall  be  rising    religious    earnestness    of    the 

sure  of  salvation.   .  .  .  people,  who,  equally  with  Lutlier,  were 

"  Why  do  these  preachers  by  their  asking  how  men  in  their  sins  could  be 

fabulous   pardons  render    the   people  saved  ?     By  faith,  replies  Luther  ;  by 

careless  and  indifferent  ?    Indulgences  indulgences,    said   Tetzel.      It   was  a 

contribute    nothing    to    salvation    of  cry,    not    from    the    moral    but    the 

Bonis.    They  only  remove  the  external  spiritual  nature  of  man.     And  as  such 

penalties  formerly  imposed  canonically  Luther  answered  it. 
(fjlim    canonice    imjjoni    solilain)." — 


238  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

among  the  people,  lasting  the  rest  of  that  month  and  all  September, 
which  for  the  sudden  sharpness  and  unwont  cruelness  passed  the 
pestilence.  For  this  commonly  giveth  in  four,  often  seven,  sometime 
nine,  sometime  eleven,  and  sometime  fourteen  days,  respite  to  whom  it 
vexeth.  But  that  immediately  killed  some  in  opening  their  windows, 
some  in  jjlaying  with  children  in  their  street  doors  ;  some  in  one  hour, 
many  in  two,  it  destroyed  ;  and  at  tlie  longest  to  them  that  merrily  dined, 
it  gave  a  sorrowful  supper.  As  it  found  them,  so  it  took  them  ;  some  in 
sleep,  some  in  wake,  some  in  mirth,  some  in  care,  some  fasting  and  some 
full,  some  busy  and  some  idle  ;  and  in  one  house  sometime  three,  some- 
time tive,  sometime  more,  sometime  all  ;  of  the  which  if  the  half  in  eveiy 
town  escaped,  it  was  thought  a  great  favor.  This  disease,  because  it  most 
did  stand  in  sweating  from  the  beginning  until  the  ending,  was  called 
here  The  Siveating  Sichiess ;  and  because  it  first  began  in  England,  it  was 
named  in  other  countries  '  The  English  Sweat. '  "  ^ 

From  the  same  authority  we  learn  that  it  appeared  in 
1506,  again  in  1517  from  July  to  the  middle  of  December, 
then  in  1528.  It  commenced  with  a  fever,  followed  by  strong 
internal  struggles  of  nature,  causing  sweat.  If  the  constitu- 
tion proved  sufficiently  strong  to  expel  the  poison,  the  patient 
escaped.  It  was  attended  with  sharp  pains  in  the  back, 
shoulders,  and  extremities,  and  then  attacked  the  liver ;  pains 
in  the  head  were  succeeded  by  oppressions  of  the  heart, 
followed  by  drowsiness,  the  whole  body  becoming  inactive 
and  lumpish.  It  had  these  further  peculiarities  that  men  of 
middle  age  and  sanguine  complexion  were  most  liable  to  its 
ravages.  Labouring  and  "thin  dieted"  men  generally 
escaped  it.^ 

It  is  stated  by  Caius,  in  other  parts  of  his  work,  that  the 
disease  was  almost  peculiar  to  Englishmen,  following  them  as 
the  shadow  does  the  body  in  all  countries,  albeit  not  at  all 
times.^  Others  "  it  haunted  not  at  all,  or  else  very  seldom  or 
once  in  an  age.""^  It  never  entered  Scotland.  In  Calais, 
Antwerp,  and  Brabant  it  generally  singled  out  English 
residents  and  visitors,  whilst  the  native  population  were 
unaffected.  In  despair  of  escape,  and  the  absence  of  any 
sufficient  or  certain  remedies,  men  gave  up  all  hope  of 
recovery,  and  yielded  to  it  without  a  struggle ;  seeing  how  it 
began  "  fearfully  to  invade  them,  furiously  handle  them, 
speedily  oppress  them,  unmercifully  choke  them,  and  that  in 
no  small  numbers,  and  such  persons  so  notably  noble  in 
birth,  goodly  conditions,  grave  sobriety,  singular  wisdom,  and 
great  learning." 

In  consequence  of  the  peculiarity  of  the  disease  in  thus 
singling  out  Englishmen,  and  those  of  a  richer  diet  and  more 

'  A  Boke  or  Counseill  against  the  Sweate,  f.  9. 

2  f.  18,  19.  '  f.  7.  '  f.  18. 


1516-17.] 


UNHEALTHY   HOUSES. 


239 


sanguine  temperament,  various  speculations  were  set  afloat 
as  to  its  origin  and  its  best  mode  of  cure.  Erasmus  attributed 
it  to  bad  bouses  and  bad  ventilation,  to  the  clay  floors,  the 
unchanged  and  festering  rushes  with  which  the  rooms  were 
strewn,  and  the  putrid  offal,  bones,  and  filth  which  reeked 
and  rotted  together  in  the  unswept  and  unwashed  dining-halls 
and  chambers.  He  urged  greater  moderation  at  meals,  less 
use  of  salt  food,  the  employment  of  proper  scavengers  to  clear 
the  streets  of  the  various  abominations  which  defiled  them.^ 
Possibly  Erasmus  was  as  correct  in  his  surmise  as  others 
who  possessed  and  professed  no  knowledge  of  physic.  Failing 
of  more  specific  information,  the  disease  may  be  attributed  to 
a  variety  of  causes  growing  out  of  a  great  alteration  in  the 
habits  and  dietary  of  the  population.  Change  of  place,  fresh 
air,  moderate  diet,  seem  to  have  been  the  only  sure  specifics  ; 
and  these  were  pointed  out  as  much  by  natural  instinct  as 
observation  : — the  meagre  suffered  less  than  the  gross  ;  poor 
agricultural  labourers  escaped  when  the  rich  citizen  and  the 
noble  perished.  During  the  last  century  the  population  of 
the  towns  had  increased  rapidly,  without  any  proportionate 


*  "I  am  frequently  astonished  and 
grieved  to  think  how  it  is  that  England 
has  been  now  for  so  many  years 
troubled  by  a  continual  pestilence, 
especially  by  a  deadly  sweat,  which 
appears  in  a  great  measure  to  be 
peculiar  to  your  country.  I  have  read 
how  a  city  was  once  delivered  from  a 
plague  by  a  change  in  the  houses, 
made  at  the  suggestion  of  aphilosopher. 
I  am  inclined  to  think  that  this  also 
must  be  the  deliverance  for  England. 

"  First  of  all,  Englishmen  never 
consider  the  aspect  of  their  doors  or 
■windows  ; — next,  their  chambers  are 
built  in  such  a  way  as  to  admit  of  no 
ventilation.  Then  a  great  part  of  the 
walls  of  the  house  is  occupied  with 
glass  casements,  which  admit  light, 
but  exclude  the  air,  and  yet  they  let 
in  the  draft  through  holes  and  corners, 
■which  is  often  pestilential  and  stag- 
nates there.  The  floors  are  in  general 
laid  with  white  clay,  and  are  covered 
with  rushes,  occasionally  removed,  but 
EG  imperfectly  that  the  bottom  layer 
is  left  undisturbed,  sometimes  for 
twenty  years,  harbouring  expectora- 
tions, vomitings,  the  leakage  of  dogs 
and  men,  ale-di'()p|)ings,  scraps  of  fish, 
and  other  abominations  not  fit  to  bo 
mentioned.  Whenever  the  weather 
changes,  a  vapour  is  exhaled,  which  I 


consider  very  detrimental  to  health. 
I  may  add  that  England  is  not  only 
everywhere  surrounded  by  sea,  but  is 
in  many  places  swampy  and  marshy 
— (Erasmus  no  doubt  meant  Essex), — 
intersected  by  salt  rivers,  to  say 
nothing  of  salt  provisions,  in  which 
the  common  people  take  so  much 
delight.  I  am  confident  the  island 
would  be  much  more  salubrious  if  the 
use  of  rushes  were  abandoned,  and  if 
the  rooms  were  built  in  such  a  way  as 
to  be  exposed  to  the  sky  on  two  or 
three  sides,  and  all  the  windows  so 
built  as  to  bo  opened  or  closed  at 
once  ;  and  so  completely  clos(!d  as  not 
to  admit  the  foul  air  through  chinks  ; 
for  as  it  is  beneficial  to  health  to 
admit  the  air,  so  is  it  equally  beneficial 
at  times  to  exclude  it.  The  common 
people  laugh  at  you  if  you  com])lain 
of  a  cloudy  or  foggy  day.  Thirty 
years  ago  if  ever  I  entered  a  room 
which  had  not  been  occupied  for 
some  months,  I  was  sure  to  take  a 
fever.  More  moderation  in  diet,  and 
especially  in  the  use  of  salt  meats, 
might  be  of  service  ;  more  particularly 
were  public  ajdiles  appointed  to  see 
the  streets  clcaiied  from  mud  and 
urine,  and  tlie  snliuibs  kept  in  better 
order."  *  * — Erasmus  to  [John  ?] 
Eraucis,  Wolscy's  physician. 


240  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

increase  in  their  sanitary  condition  or  means  of  accommoda- 
tion. The  same  filthy,  open,  and  stagnant  sewers  rolled 
lazily  their  trihute  to  the  Thames,  or  left  their  abominations 
to  breed  pestilence  in  the  muddy  and  unpaved  streets,  where 
rank  and  sickly  vegetation  crawled  and  rotted,  and  fever  and 
death  were  exhaled  from  numerous  holes  and  pits.  The 
fresh-water  springs  had  been  gradually  diminished,  or  were 
monopolized  by  brewers ;  the  narrow  conduits  spouted  from 
their  pea-shooters  exactly  the  same  quantity  of  pure  liquid  to 
supply  the  wants  of  thousands  as  for  a  century  and  more  had 
scantily  served  for  tens.  Add  to  these,  the  old  rehgious 
observances  of  the  town  ^copulations  had  rapidly  declined; 
and  the  discipline  of  the  Church  had  fallen  into  desuetude. 
Lenten  fasts  and  Advent  were  treated  with  contempt  in  the 
growing  puritanism  of  the  age,  which  regarded  these  things 
as  indifferent  or  superstitious,  and  overlooked  their  social  and 
sanitary  importance  when  their  religious  obligation  was  dis- 
puted. Pilgrimages  to  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury,  in  April 
and  May,  a  month  or  six  weeks'  ride  on  horseback  over  the 
fresh  fields  and  salt  downs,  change  of  diet  and  change  of  air, 
worked  wonders  for  exhausted  frames  and  overcharged  diges- 
tions ;  and  "the  blissful  martyr,"  St,  Thomas,  had  the  credit, 
and  richly  he  deserved  it,  "of  helping  them  that  were  sick" 
more  effectually  than  the  best  leech  in  all  the  shires  of  broad 
England.-^ 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  the  sickness  first  made  its 
appearance  in  April,  1516.^  Its  violence  abated  as  usual  at 
the  approach  of  cold  weather.  It  reajDpeared  again  in  the 
spring  of  1517  with  alarming  fury,  and  continuing  all  through 
the  summer  into  November  without  interruption,  scarcely 
ceased  in  the  winter,  and  raged  more  violently  than  ever  in 
1518.  In  that  year  it  was  accompanied  with  the  measles  and 
the  smallpox.^  Not  only  amusements  but  business  ceased  in 
a  great  measure ;  crowds  and  places  of  public  resort  were 
carefully  avoided ;  noblemen  broke  up  their  establishments, 
and  every  one  in  dread  of  the  infection  hastened,  as  best  he 
could,  to  isolate  himself  from  his  neighbours.  "Tell  your 
master,"  said  Wolsey  to  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury's  chaplain, 
"to  get  him  into  clean  air,  and  divide  his  household  in 
sundry  places."     No  lord,  except  during  his  necessary  attend- 

*  As  a  specimen  of  the  different  British    Museum    are   given    in    the 

modes  of  treatment  adopted  for  the  Appendix  to  this  volume, 
sweating    sickness,    certain    extracts  ^  II.  1815,  1832. 

from    the    Additional    MSS.    in    the  ^  n^  432O. 


1516-17.]         WOLSEY  LORD  CHANCELLOR.  241 

ance  at  court,  was  suffered  to  keep  servant  or  stuff  in  his 
chamber,  "  considering  the  misorder  that  is  used  by  their 
servants  whereby  infection  ensued."  ^  Fairs  were  put  down; 
and  in  Oxford,  so  long  as  the  court  resided  at  Abingdon, 
orders  were  given  by  Sir  Thomas  More  in  the  King's  name 
that  the  inhabitants  of  infected  houses  should  keep  in,  hang 
out  wisps  of  straw,  and  carry  white  rods,  in  the  same  way  as 
the  King  had  ordered  the  Londoners.^  The  King  moved  from 
place  to  place,  alarmed  at  every  report  of  the  sickness,  whether 
well  or  ill  founded  ;  ^  his  fears  were  increased  by  those  of 
Katharine,  not  for  herself  but  for  him,  and  by  her  natural 
solicitude  for  the  welfare  of  Princess  Mary.  The  apprehen- 
sions of  the  court  were  not  without  reason ;  the  plague  fell 
upon  the  royal  household,  and  carried  off  the  pages  that  slept 
in  the  King's  chamber.^  Every  superfluous  attendant  was 
dismissed ;  and  only  three  favourite  gentlemen  were  retained. 
But  even  this  precaution  proved  unavailing ;  in  the  spring 
three  more  of  the  pages  died  of  the  plague  in  the  King's 
palace  at  Eichmond.^  Ammonius,  the  Latin  secretary,  the 
friend  of  Erasmus,  was  dining  one  day  with  an  acquaintance  ; 
they  had  arranged  to  meet  the  next  day,*^  and  ride  to  Merton 
to  escape  the  infection.  The  next  morning,  before  his  friend 
had  time  to  get  out  of  bed  and  dress  himself,  a  messenger 
arrived  to  announce  the  death  of  Ammonius.  He  was  carried 
off  in  eight  hours.'  As  if  to  show  that  foreigners  enjoyed  no 
special  immunity,  Giustinian,  the  Venetian  ambassador,  was 
twice  attacked  by  it  in  the  same  week,  and  two  of  his  servants 
died  in  his  house.^  Foreign  ambassadors  feared  to  set  foot  in 
England,  or  were  urgent  to  get  away. 

The  only  man  who  remained  at  his  post  during  this 
general  consternation  and  alarm  was  Wolsey.  In  addition  to 
his  duties  as  chief  minister,  he  was  now  Lord  Chancellor.  His 
administration  of  this  great  legal  office  was  characterized  by 
the  same  energy  and  fearlessness  as  distinguished  his  conduct 
in  all  other  departments.  For  his  zeal  and  ability  as  a  judge 
we  have  the  best  testimony  that  could  be  had  ;  the  testimony 
of  Sir  Thomas  More.  His  regularity,  decision,  and  dispatch 
cannot  be  questioned  ;  his  impartiality  to  all  classes  was  never 
disputed.  These  formed  the  topics  of  satire  and  complaint. 
The  lawyers  hated  him  for  his  strict  adherence  to  justice,  his 


•  TI.  4331. 

'   II.  4009. 

2  II.  1125, 

«  II.  3603. 

^  n.  4057,  sq. 

'  II.3G45. 

*   Nov.,  1517. 

No.  3788. 

«  II.  4332. 

VOL.  I. 


242 


THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII. 


[AD. 


discouragement  of  petty  legal  artifices,  endless  forms,  and 
interminable  verbosity ;  the  nobles  bated  him  still  more, 
because  riches  and  nobility  were  no  recommendation  to 
partiality  or  favour,  as  they  had  been  in  the  days  of  his 
predecessors.  His  own  assertion  may  be  accepted  when  he 
says,  in  a  letter  to  Henry  YIIL,  that  the  realm  was  never  in 
greater  peace  or  tranquillity.  "All  this  summer,"^  he  adds, 
"  I  have  had  neither  riot,  felony,  nor  forcible  entry,  but  your 
laws  be  in  every  place  indifferently  ministered,  without  leaning 
of  any  manner."  He  then  mentions  a  fray  between  the  re- 
tainers of  Serjeant  Pigot  and  Sir  Andrew  Wyndsor,  both  high 
in  the  royal  favour,  and  his  intention  to  bring  both  parties 
into  the  Star  Chamber,  "  that  they  shall  beware  how  from 
henceforth  they  redress  their  matters  with  their  own  hands." 
In  the  performance  of  these  arduous  and  accumulated  duties 
he  was  attacked  by  the  sweating  sickness,  to  the  undisguised 
delight  of  all  whom  he  had  compelled  to  pay  their  just  debts 
to  the  Crown  and  submit  to  the  impartial  administration  of 
the  laws.  In  June,  1517,  he  had  been  so  seriously  ill  that  his 
life  was  despaired  of;  "  and  for  many  days,"  says  Giustinian, 
*'  neither  the  nobles,  nor  other  members  of  the  privy  council, 
who  are  wont  to  be  so  assiduous,  went  near  him."  ^  In  July 
he  was  suffering  from  quinsy  :  in  August  he  was  attacked  by 
the  prevailing  sickness,  and  many  of  his  household  died ; 
"  this  is  the  fourth  time,"  says  Giustinian,'^  who  hated  him 
for  his  firmness ;  and  the  complaint  told  heavily  on  his 
personal  appearance.  He  now  proposed  a  pilgrimage  to 
Walsingham,  and  then  to  Our  Lady  of  Grace,  to  take  air  and 
exercise  and  correct  the  weakness  of  his  stomach,  as  he 
informed  his  royal  master.  He  performed  his  vow  and 
returned,  but  not  to  escape  from  a  repetition  of  the  attacks 
the  next  year.*  Henry  had  not  yet  learned  to  be  ungrateful. 
He  sent  various  messages  to  Wolsey  expressive  of  his  satis- 
faction ;  praised  the  Cardinal's  wisdom  and  diligence ;  went 
so  far  even  as  to  say  before  Pace,^  "  he  was  no  less  contented 


»  August,  1517.     11.  App.  No.  38. 

2  II.  3372. 

3  IT.  3638,  3655. 

*  The  precautions  adopted  by 
Wolsey  in  consequence  of  these  re- 
peated attacks  were  misrepresented 
by  his  satirists  and  disappointed 
suitors.  Allen,  a  chaplain  to  the  Earl 
of  Shrewsbury,  complains  that  when 
the  Cardinal  walked  in  the  pai-k  at 
Hampton  Court   he  would   suffer  no 


suitor  to  come  near  him  within  bow- 
shot. (Nov.  25,  1517.)  Skelton 
ridicules  him  for  indulging  in  light 
and  nutritions  diets,  such  as  pheasants 
and  partridges. 

While  on  this  visit  to  Walsingham, 
it  seems  that  Wolsey  went  on  to  Nor- 
wich, and  arranged  a  dispute  between 
the  citizens  and  the  monks,  relative  to 
a  piece  of  ground  caUed  Tombland. 

^  II.  4071. 


1517.]  HENRY'S  SOLICITUDE  FOR    WOLSEY.  243 

with  the  Cardinars  contentation  than  though  he  had  been  his 
own  father  ;  "  asserted  before  the  lords  ^  "  that  there  was  no 
man  hving  who  pondered  more  the  surety  of  his  person  and 
the  common  wealth  of  his  realm."  He  desired  Wolsey,  as 
soon  as  business  would  allow,  to  repair  to  Woodstock ;  "  for 
here,"  writes  Dr.  Clerk,  through  whom  the  communication 
was  made,  "  is  clear  air,  which  his  Grace  thinketh  ye  will  like 
very  well." 

It  was  during  the  progress  of  the  sickness,  probably  a  few 
days  before  Wolsey  started  on  his  pilgrimage  to  Walsingham, 
that  the  King  addi'essed  to  him  the  following  letter  in  his  own 
hand : — 

"  Myne  awne  good  Cardinall,  I  recomande  me  unto  yow  with  all  my 
hart,  and  thanke  yow  for  the  grette  payne  and  labour  that  yow  do  dayly 
take  in  my  bysynes  and  maters,  desyryng  yow  (that  wen  yow  have  well 
establysshyd  them)  to  take  summe  pastyme  and  comfort,  to  the  intente 
yow  may  the  longer  endure  to  serve  us  ;  for  allways  payne  can  nott  be 
induryd.  Surly  yow  have  so  substancyally  orderyd  oure  maters,  bothe  off 
thys  syde  the  see  and  byonde,  that  in  myne  ojjpynion  lityll  or  no  thyng 
can  be  addyd.  Nevertheles,  accordyng  to  your  desyre,  I  do  send  yow 
myne  oppynyon  by  thys  berar,  the  rettbrmation  whereof!"  I  do  remyte  to 
yow  and  the  remnante  off  our  trusty  counsellors,  whyche  I  am  sure  wyll 
substanically  loke  on  hyt.  As  tochyng  the  mater  that  Sir  Wyllyam 
Sandys  broght  answar  off,  I  am  well  contentyd  with  what  order  so  ever 
yow  do  take  in  itt.  The  Queue  my  wyif  hathe  desyryd  me  to  make  har 
most  harty  recommendations  to  yow,  as  to  hym  that  she  lovethe  very 
well,  and  bothe  she  and  I  wolde  knowe  fayne  when  yow  wyll  repayer 
to  us. 

' '  No  more  to  yow  att  thys  tyme,  but  that  with  God's  helpe  I  trust  we 
shall  dysajioynte  oure  enymys  off  theyre  intendy d  purpose .  Wryttyn  with 
the  hand  off  your  lovyng  master, 

"Henry  R." 

So  whilst  the  King,  in  compliance  with  his  royal  instincts 
and  the  solicitations  of  his  subjects,  took  care  of  his  own 
health — of  all  considerations  the  most  precious — the  Cardinal 
took  care  of  the  State.  The  court  shifted  from  Richmond  to 
Eeading,  from  Eeading  to  Abingdon,  thence  to  Woodstock,  or 
Wallingford,  or  Farnham,  as  fear  or  sickness  jjrevailed. 
Masks  and  tournaments  were  at  an  end  for  a  time ;  dice, 
card-playing,  and  divinity  took  their  place.^ 

But  whatever  might  be  the  effect  on  the  court  and  the 
courtiers,  the  sweating  sickness  had  not  passed  over  the  land 
without  leaving  its  mark  on  the  doors  and  sideposts  of  the 
lower   population.      Then,  even  more   than   now,    any   long 

'  II.  4124.  in  the  hall !  "— Paco  to  Wol.scy,   from 

*  "  Cardmg   and   dicing,    for    this  Abingdon,  where  the  com-t  was  tlicu 

Holy  Week,  is  turned  into  pickiiig  off  staying. 

(pitching  of  ?)  arrows  over  the  screen 


244  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

absence  of  the  court  from  London  was  fraught  with  evil 
consequences.  It  was  disastrous  to  the  good  order  as  well  as 
ythe  prosperity  of  the  metropolis.  The  King  had  nothing  to 
fear  from  any  competitor  to  the  crown  :  the  only  relict  of  the 
betrampled  De  la  Poles,  the  last  of  the  White  Eoses,  was  a 
wretched  exile  at  Metz  in  Lorraine,  beset  with  spies  and 
scoundrels,  and  starving  on  a  wretched  pittance  from  the 
King  of  France.  The  State  papers  of  the  time  are  full  of  the 
mean  and  unscrupulous  efforts  employed  to  betray  him  to 
England  and  his  brother's  fate  by  two  emissaries,  Hans 
Nagel  and  Alamire,  who  played  the  traitors'  part,  and  took 
money  from  both  sides.  But  London  apprentices  were  a 
restless  and  ignorant  mob ;  the  municipality  of  the  city 
inadequate  to  the  preservation  of  order  it^Don  extraordinary 
occasions,  and  accustomed  to  look  to  the  court  for  help.  The 
late  sickness  had  been  disastrous  to  business  ;  the  city  was 
unguarded ;  foreign  merchants  had  swarmed  into  London 
in  unusual  numbers ;  and  foreign  fashions,  hitherto  dis- 
countenanced, were  growing  popular  at  court  in  consequence 
of  the  increasing  communication  with  the  Continent.  The 
general  dissatisfaction  found  vent  at  a  time  when  it  was  least 
expected.  Indications  of  it  appeared  as  early  as  the  spring  of 
1516.  On  the  28th  of  Aj)ril  in  that  year  Thomas  Allen  writes 
to  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  that  a  bill  had  been  set  upon  the 
door  of  St.  Paul's,  reflecting  on  the  King  and  his  Council.  It 
insinuated  that  strangers  obtained  much  money  from  the 
King,  "  and  bought  wools  to  the  undoing  of  Englishmen." 
The  reflection  w^as  evidently  aimed  at  the  Venetian  and 
Florentine  merchants,  the  Campucci,  Cavalcanti,  and  Fresco- 
baldi,  but  especially  the  first,  who  obtained  large  concessions 
about  this  time.  This  incendiary  handbill  occasioned  great 
displeasure,  "insomuch  that  in  every  ward  one  of  the  king's 
council,  with  the  alderman  of  the  same,  was  commanded  to 
see  every  man  write  that  could  ;  and  further  took  every  man's 
books  and  sealed  them,  and  brought  them  to  Guildhall  there 
to  examine  them."  The  examination  apparently  produced 
few  results  ;  at  least  no  further  notice  occurs  of  it  in  the 
papers  of  this  year.  But  the  fire  still  smouldered  and  soon 
after  burst  into  a  flame.  Hall,  in  his  Chronicle,  attributes 
the  disturbance  to  the  boastfulness  of  the  Genoese  and  the 
French;  but'most  of  "the  strangers  were  so  proud  that  they 
disdained,  mocked,  and  oppressed  "  the  poor  English  artificer, 
"who  could  scarce  get  a  living."     These  and  other  stories 


1517.]  DISLIKE   OF  FOREIGNEKS.  245 

must  not  be  too  easily  credited :  the  citizens  were  actuated  by 
jealousy  of  rival  tradesmen  and  intense  hatred  of  the  least 
ajjparent  invasion  of  their  monopoly.     In  the  Easter  of  1517 
a    broker    named    John    Lincoln    called    upon    Dr.    Henry 
Standish,^  warden  of  the  Mendicant  Friars,  the  most  popular 
preacher  of  the  day,  and  begged  him  in  the  sermon  which  he 
was  to  preach  on  Easter  Monday  at  St.  Mary's  Spittle  to 
move  the  mayor  and  aldermen  "  to  take  part  with  the  com- 
monalty against  the    strangers."      Standish   wisely   refused. 
Beaten,  but  not  baffled,  Lincoln  applied  to  one  Dr.  Beale,  a 
canon  of  the  same  hospital.     He  enlarged  on  the  misery  of 
the  poor  artificers,  whose  living  was  taken  away  by  strangers ; 
"  and  also  how  the  English  merchants  could  have  no  utter- 
ance ;  for  the  merchant  strangers  brought  in  all  silks,  cloth 
of  gold,  wine,  oil,  iron,  and  such  other  merchandize,  that  no 
man  almost  buyeth  of  an  Englishman.     And  also  outward 
thej  carry  so  much  English  wool,  tin,  and  lead,  that  English- 
men that  aveuture  outward  can  have  no  living;  which  things" 
(said  Lincoln)  "have  been  shewed  to  the  council  and  cannot 
be  heard.     Wherefore  "  (said  Lincoln),  "  Master  Doctor,  syth 
you  were   born  in  London,   and  see   the  oppression   of  the 
strangers,  and  the  great  misery  of  your  own  native  country, 
exhort  all  the  citizens  to  join  in  one  against  the  strangers, 
raveners,  and  destroyers  of  your  country."     Master  Doctor, 
on   hearing  this,  much  lamented  their  case.     "Yea,"   said 
Lincoln,    "  for   the   Dutchmen    (Germans)   bring   over   iron, 
timber,  leather,  and  wainscot,  ready  wrought ;  nails,  locks, 
baskets,  cupboards,  stools,  tables,  chests,  girdles  with  points, 
saddles,   and  painted  (embroidered)  cloths ;    so  that  if  they 
were  wrought  here  Englishmen  might  get  something  by  it. 
And  beside  this  they  grow  into  such  a  multitude  that  it  is  to 
be  looked  upon ;  for  I  saw  on  a  Sunday  this  Lent  GOO  strangers 
shooting  at  the  popynjay  with  crossbows,  and  they  make  such 
a  gathering  to  their  common  box  that  every  botcher  will  hold 
plea  (go  to  law)  with  the  city  of  London."     Then  taking  his 
leave,  he  put  a  paper  of  grievances  into  Beale's  hand,  which 
Beale  promised  to  study. 

On  the  Tuesday,  after  Dr.  Standish,  Beale  preached  to  a 
crowded  and  excited  audience,  taking  for  his  text,  "The 
heaven  is  the  Lord's,  and  the  fulness  thereof ;  but  the  earth 

'  Immortalized    for    his    quarrel  him.      His    name    occurs   frequently 

with    Erasmus.     Ho    was    afterwards  with  Colet's  and  Grocyu'a  among  tlio 

Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  St.  Asse,  or  Do  court  preachers. 
Aeino,  as   Pace   and    Erasmus   called 


246  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

he  has  given  to  the  children  of  men ;  " — coeluni  coeli  Domino, 
terrain  autem  dedit  filiis  hominum.  He  argued  with  no  little 
eloquence  and  ingenuity,  that  when  God  appointed  their 
proper  houndaries  and  habitations  to  all  nations,  he  gave  the 
land  his  audience  stood  upon  as  an  inheritance  to  Englishmen 
for  ever ;  and  as  birds  would  defend  their  nests,  so  (he  urged) 
ought  Englishmen  to  fight  for  their  country  and  defend  it 
against  aliens.  A  popular  topic,  so  enforced  and  so  illustrated, 
was  not  likely  to  lose  any  of  its  effect.  May-Day,  the  popular 
festival,  was  at  hand ;  and  the  court,  in  dread  of  the  sickness, 
had  retired  to  Kichmond.  Two  days  before,  a  rumour  sprung 
up,  no  man  could  tell  from  what  beginning,  that  the  city 
would  rise,  and  all  strangers  be  massacred  without  discrimi- 
nation. Wolsey  sent  for  the  chief  members  of  the  corporation, 
and  demanded  of  the  Mayor  how  the  city  stood.  "  Well,  and 
in  good  quiet,"  answered  the  Mayor,  as  mayors  are  apt  to  do. 
"Nay,"  said  the  Cardinal,  "we  are  informed  that  your  young 
and  riotous  people  will  rise  and  distress  the  strangers.  Hear 
ye  of  no  such  thing?  "  "  No,  surely,"  said  the  Mayor,  "  and 
I  trust  so  to  govern  them  that  the  king's  peace  shall  not  be 
broken,  and  that  I  dare  undertake,  if  I  and  my  brethren  the 
aldermen  may  be  suffered."  Wolsey  dismissed  them  with  a 
caution  to  look  well  to  this  matter.  The  aldermen  talked  the 
subject  over,  differed  in  their  opinions,  and  no  effectual  pre- 
cautions were  adopted.  According  to  Hall  (whose  antipathy 
to  foreigners  leads  him  to  extenuate  the  insurrection  in  a 
manner  inconsistent  with  the  efforts  afterwards  used  to  punish 
and  suppress  it),  the  whole  affair  was  a  trifle.  Sir  John 
Munday,  one  of  the  aldermen,  found  two  apprentices  in  his 
ward  playing  at  bucklers,  and  a  great  company  looking  on. 
As  they  refused  to  disperse,  he  took  one  of  them  by  the  arm, 
who  was  immediately  rescued.  Instantly  the  cry  of  Clubs.' 
Prentices !  was  raised ;  and  in  a  moment  the  streets  were 
thronged  with  a  motley  crowd  of  watermen,  serving-men,  and 
apprentices,  swaj^ing  hither  and  thither,  bent  on  mischief,  but 
not  yet  resolved  what  course  to  take.  Some  fell  to  rifling  the 
houses,  others  ran  to  Leadenhall,  the  residence  of  Peter 
Meautis,  the  King's  secretary,  others  to  the  strangers' 
quarters,  plundering  and  destroying  all  that  fell  in  their  way. 
Hall  accuses  Sir  Thomas  Parr  of  exaggerating  the  report  of 
the  disturbance  to  the  King,  and  greatly  underrates  the 
number  of  the  rioters.  He  condemns  Sir  Pilchard  Cholmeley, 
lieutenant   of  the   Tower,   for  needlessly  battering  the  city 


1517.]  EVIL  MAY  DAY.  247 

gates,  *'in  a  frantic  fmy,"  "with  certain  pieces  of  ordnance, 
*'  -^bich  did  little  barm,  bowbeit  bis  good  will  appeared." 
Tbe  serving-men  and  priests  engaged  in  tlie  riot  escaped,  says 
Hall,  "but  tbe  poor  prentices  were  taken!"  Tbe  wbole 
narrative,  bowever,  is  so  mucb  coloured  by  tbe  writer's 
j)eculiar  prejudices  and  bis  anxiety  to  exculpate  tbe  rioters, 
tbat  be  assumes  as  grave  facts  tbe  rbetorical  exaggerations  of 
tbe  preacber,  and  is  unjust  to  tbe  alien  mercbants.  He 
accuses  tliem  of  sbowing  open  contempt  for  tbe  citizens, 
depriving  tbem  of  tbeir  industry  and  emoluments,  and  dis- 
bonouring  tbeir  wives  and  daugbters  ; — an  accusation  of  no 
probability,  considering  tbe  paucity  of  tbeir  number,  and  tbe 
dangers  to  wbicb  tbey  were  exposed  from  tbe  multitude  and 
ii'ritation  of  tbe  citizens.  "  From  tbat  day,"  says  Giustinian, 
referring  to  tbe  day  of  Beale's  sermon,  "  tbey  commenced 
tbreatening  tbe  strangers  tbat  on  tbe  1st  of  May  tbey  would  cut 
tbem  to  pieces  and  sack  tbeir  bouses."  Sebastian  gave  Wolsey 
notice  of  tbe  danger,  and,  apprebensive  of  tbe  consequences, 
witbdrew  to  Eicbmond.  Tbe  rioters  rose  in  tbe  nigbt  of  tbe 
30tb  of  April,  to  tbe  number  of  2,000,  sacked  tbe  bouses  of  tbe 
Frencb  and  Flemisb  artificers,  and  tben  proceeded  to  tbe  resi- 
dence of  Peter  Meautis,  wbo  escaped  deatb  by  biding  bimself  in 
tbe  belfry  of  tbe  adjoining  cburcb.  Tbeir  next  object  of  attack 
was  tbe  Italian  quarter,  but  tbe  mercbants  tbere  bad  provided 
tbemselves  witb  men,  arms,  and  artillery,  and  defied  tbe  mob, 
w^bo  drew  off  to  attack  tbe  less  resolute  and  tbe  defenceless. 
Mucb  greater  miscbief  would  bave  arisen  but  for  tbe  precau- 
tionary measures  of  tbe  Cardinal,  wbo  bad  ordered  troops  to 
advance  by  several  roads  to  tbe  city,  "wdiere  tbey  found  tbe 
gates  closed  by  tbese  seditious  ribalds,  wbo  bad  overpowered 
tbe  forces  of  tbe  lord  mayor  and  aldermen,  and  compelled 
tbem  to  open  tbe  gaols  and  release  tbe  prisoners."  Tbe  gates 
were  forced  in  difi'erent  directions  ;  tbe  preacber,  witb  twelve 
of  tbe  ringleaders,  and  seventy  of  tbeir  adberents  taken. 

On  tbe  4tb  of  May,  tbe  prisoners  were  brougbt  tbrougb 
tbe  streets  to  trial,  tied  witb  ropes,  two  and  two ;  "  some  men, 
some  lads,  some  cbildren  of  xiii.  years."  ^  Tbey  were  tried 
on  tbe  statute  of  bigb  treason;  tbirteen  were  found  guilty, 
and  condemned  to  be  banged,  drawn,  and  quartered.  Gallows 
were  erected  in  different  parts  of  tbe  city,  and  tbe  executions 
entrusted  to  Lord  Surrey,  tbe  admiral,  son  of  tbe  Duke  of 
Norfolk,   as   knigbt   marsbal,   wbo   sbowcd   tbe   unfortunate 


»  Hall. 


248  THE  EEIGN   OF  HENEY   VIII.  [A.D. 

prisoners  no  mercy.  The  armed  retainers  of  the  Duke  and 
other  noblemen  appointed  to  keep  order,  regarded  the  citizens 
with  hatred  and  disdain,  and  made  no  scruple  of  expressing 
their  feelings  in  opprobrious  words  and  gestm'es.  On  Thurs- 
day, the  7th,  Lincoln  and  the  ringleaders  were  ordered  for 
execution  ;  but  Lincoln  alone  suffered ;  the  rest  were  respited 
at  the  foot  of  the  gallows.^  These  severities  did  not  all  at 
once  produce  the  effects  that  had  been  anticipated.  Great 
murmuring  and  disaffection  rose  among  the  people,  especially 
among  the  women.  Strangers  were  not  safe  in  the  city  ; 
blows  were  struck,  foreigners  were  eyed  with  angry  glances, 
though  no  serious  riots  ensued.  Great  as  was  their  fear, 
their  ill  will  was  greater  than  ever.  Numbers  still  remained 
in  prison,  uncertain  of  their  fate.  On  the  11th  the  King 
removed  to  Greenwich,  and  received  a  deputation  of  the 
recorder  and  aldermen,  dressed  in  black,  who  had  come  to 
excuse  themselves  and  beg  mercy  for  the  offenders.  Henry 
declined  to  grant  their  petition,  and  referred  them  to  the 
Chancehor.  Eleven  days  after,  attended  by  the  Cardinal,  the 
Council,  and  the  lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  the  King  took 
his  seat  on  a  lofty  dais,  with  great  ceremony,  in  Westminster 
Hall:  the  mayor,  aldermen,  and  chief  citizens  were  in 
attendance.  "  The  king  commanded  that  aU  the  prisoners 
should  be  brought  forth.  Then  came  in  the  poor  younglings 
and  old  false  knaves,  bound  in  ropes,  all  along  one  after 
another,  in  their  shirts,  and  every  one  with  a  halter  about  his 
neck,  to  the  number  of  400  men  and  eleven  women." ^  The 
Cardinal  as  they  presented  themselves  before  the  King  en- 
treated his  Majesty  to  pardon  them.  The  King  refused. 
Turning  to  the  delinquents,  the  Cardinal  announced  the  royal 
determination.  On  hearing  it  the  culprits  fell  upon  their 
knees,  crying  aloud,  Mercy,  Mercy!  Then  the  Cardinal, 
falling  on  his  knees,  besought  his  Majesty's  compassion,  and 
at  length  obtained  their  pardon,  which  he  announced  to  them 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,^  urging  them  in  a  long  discourse  to  be 

^  Stowaddsacircumstanceomitted  connsel    he  would   then   do  nothing) 

by  Hall,  whose  account  he  follows  in  the  king  granted  unto  them." — Chron. 

other   respects.     "It  is  to  be  noted  p.    506.      Five   days   after  Margaret 

that    three    queens,    sc,    Katharine  returned  to  Scotland, 
queen  of  England,  and  by  her  means  -  Hall. 

Mary  the  French  queen,  and  Margaret  '  Hall,    who    hated    Wolsey,    has 

queen  of  Scots,  the  king's  sisters,  then  omitted  many  little  circumstances  in 

resident    in    England,    long    time    on  his  account   of  this   affair,  which  he 

their  knees  before  the  king,  had  begged  thought  might   be    creditable  to   the 

their  pardon,  which  by  persuasion  of  Cardinal.     The  best  account  of  it  will 

the  cardinal  Wolsey  (without  whose  be  found  in  Giustinian's  despatches. 


1517.]  ILL   FEELING  IN   THE   CITY.  249 

obedient  subjects,  and  not  oppose  the  will  of  their  Prince, 
who  had  resolved  that  all  strangers  should  be  well  treated  in 
his  dominions.  "And  when  the  Cardinal  told  them  this," 
says  Sagudino,^  "it  was  a  fine  sight  to  see  each  man  take  the 
halter  from  his  neck,  and  fling  it  in  the  air ;  and  how  they 
jumped  for  joy,  making  such  signs  of  rejoicing  as  became 
people  who  had  escaped  from  extreme  peril."  ^ 

The  city  was  apparently  quieted  ;  and  Hall,  its  apologist, 
saj's  no  more  of  this  disastrous  affair,  which  had  ended  with 
much  less  mischief  than  might  have  been  anticipated.     But 
the  punishment  of  the  ringleaders  sunk  deep  into  the  minds 
of  the  citizens :  nothing  could  shake   their   conviction   that 
undue   i^artiality  had   been   shown  to  the  strangers,  and  a 
disproportionate    severity   to   those   who    had   only   risen   in 
defence  of  their  inalienable  rights  as  Englishmen.     The  ill 
feeling  was  fostered  by  the  sight  of  the  mutilated  remains  of 
those  who  had  suffered  for  the  part  they  had  taken  in  the  late 
insurrection.      "  At   the    city   gates,"    says   an   eye-witness,^ 
"one   sees   nothing  but   gibbets    and   the  quarters  of  these 
wretches,  so  that  it  is  horrible  to   pass  near  them."      The 
memory  of  what  Surrey  and  other  noblemen  had  done,  in 
their  hour  of  triumph,  was  treasured   up   with   feelings  of 
resentment  by  the  inhabitants   of  London.     Their  time  for 
vengeance  had  not  yet  arrived ;   but  hatred  of  the  nobility 
became  henceforth  a  strong  element  in  the  loyalty  of  London 
citizens,    and   no   inconsiderable   motive   power   in   the   Re- 
formation.     The    rebellion    burst   forth   again   five   months 
after,  when  the  King  and  the  Cardinal  were  away.     Three  of 
the  ringleaders  were   apprehended,  but   previous  experience 
had  made  the  mayor  and  aldermen  watchful,  and  nothing 
came  of  it.^ 

The  part  taken  by  the  religious  orders  in  this  dispute,  and 
the  identification  of  the  Minorite  friars  and  Dr.  Standish  with 
the  popular  cause,  are  deserving  of  notice.  It  is  another 
proof,  overlooked  by  the  historians  of  the  Eeformation,  of  the 
favour  borne  to  these  orders  by  the  town  population.  Then, 
as  now,  the  secular  clergy  and  bishops  constituted  an  eccle- 
siastical aristocracy,  and  sympathized  with  the  nobility.    They 

'  II.  3259.  down,  and  from  thnt  time  the  citizens 

*  By  this,  "the  King  might  per-  looked    more     caiet'ully    alter    their 

ceive  they  were  none  of  the  discretest  apprentices  and  servants. 

sort,"  is  Hall's  frigid  comment  on  this  '  II.  32.59. 

denionbtration.    He  adds,  more  appro.  *  II.  3G97. 

priately,  that   the  gallows  were  takeu 


250  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENEY  VIII.  [A.D. 

joined  with  Erasmus  in  his  ridicule  of  the  friars;  and  this 
feehng  of  contempt  for  the  preaching  friar  of  the  lower  classes 
was  not  inconsistent  with  the  conservatism  exhibited  by  them 
at  a  later  stage  of  the  Reformation.     It  must  be  considered  as 
still  more  strange  that  Dr.  Standish,  the  warden  of  the  Friars, 
should  have  stood  up  in  defence  of  the  royal  supremacy  against 
the  whole  power  of  Convocation  ;— an  act  which  neither  the 
clergy  nor  the  King  ever  forgot.^     When  the  see  of  St.  Asaph 
fell  vacant  in  1518,  Wolsey,  then  at  the  very  height  of  his 
credit,  desired  it  for  the  Prior  of  St.  Bartholomew's,  but  in 
vain ;   and  Pace  writes  to  the  Cardinal,^  "  the  king  will  give 
St.  Asse  to  friar  Standish  ;  whereof  I  would  be  right  sorry  for 
the  good  service  he  was  like  to  do  to  the  Church.     Erit  tamen 
difficile  hide  rei  ohstare  {ut  mild  videtur)  quia  mnjestas  regia 
ilhim  mihi  jamjmdem  laudavit  ex  doctrina  et  omnes  isti  domini 
aidici  eidemfavent  de  singidari  qvam  navavit  opera  ad  ecclesiam 
Anglicam  suhvertendam."     The  favour  thus  borne  to  Standish 
by  the  King  for  his  defence  of  the  royal  supremacy  is  not 
easily  reconciled  with  the  popular  notions  entertained  of  the 
Mendicant  friars,  and  the  part  taken  by  them  in  the  religious 
movements  of  that  age.     More  remarkable  is  the  testimony  of 
Pace   that    Standish  stood  high  in  the   good  graces  of  the 
courtiers,  because  like  them,  he  was  supposed  to  be  no  well- 
wisher  to  the  Church.     The  readers  of  Burnet  will  remember 
a  remarkable  document,  printed  by  that  historian,  containing 
a  most  graphic  account  of  the  part  taken  by  Standish  in  the 
Convocation  of  1515.^     I  must  crave  my  readers'  indulgence 
for  referring  to  this  subject  with  some  minuteness,  not  merely 
for  its  great  importance,  but  because,  in  the  recent  arrange- 
ment of  the  State  papers  under  the  order  of  the  Master  of 
the  Piolls,  the  answer  made  by  the  Convocation  to  the  King, 
when  summoned  to  defend  itself  for  its  treatment  of  Standish, 
was  for  the  first  time  brought  to  light. 

Whilst  the  Parhament  was  sitting  in  1515,  Eichard 
Kidderminster,  Abbot  of  Winchcombe,  preached  a  sermon  at 
Paul's  Cross,  wherein  he  maintained  that  the  Act  passed 
three  years  before  for  depriving  murderers  and  other  male- 
factors of  the  benefit  of  clergy,  was  contrary  to  the  law  of  God 
and  the  liberties  of  the  Church.  At  a  council  of  divines  and 
temporal  lords  summoned  by  the  King  to  examine  an  assertion 
so  derogatory  to  the  laws  of  their  realm,  Standish  spoke  in 
favour  of  the  Act.    The  argument  employed  by  him  in  defence 

>  II.  1312-14.  2  II.  4074.  *  See  II.  1313. 


1515.]  DR.   STANDISH.  251 

of  it  "svas  remarkable:  "it  was  not,"  be  said,  "against  tbe 
liberty  of  tbe  Cburcb,  because  it  was  passed  for  tbe  weal  of 
tbe  wbole  realm."  Upon  tbis  a  divine,  wbose  name  lias  not 
been  preserved,  remarked  tbat  tbe  exemption  of  tbe  clergy 
fi'om  temporal  penalties  bad  been  asserted  by  tbe  canons,  and 
by  Cbrist  Himself;  and,  in  defence  of  tbis  assertion,  be 
alleged  tbe  words  XoUte  tangere  Christos  mcos.  Standisli 
replied,  tbat  tbese  were  not  tbe  words  of  Cbrist,  but  of  David 
a  tbousand  years  before,  and  were  spoken  by  tbe  psalmist 
because  tbe  greater  number  of  men  were  unbelievers  in  tbose 
days,  and  tbey  were  forbidden  by  David  to  molest  tbose  of  tbe 
true  faitb,  wbom  be  called  Christos.  After  some  furtber 
discussion,  tbe  temporal  lords  demanded  tbat  tbe  Bisbops 
sbould  compel  tbe  Abbot  to  make  an  apology  for  wbat  be  bad 
said.  Tbe  Bishops  not  only  refused,  but  sbortly  after  sum- 
moned Standisli  to  answer  before  Convocation  to  certain 
articles  involving  the  points  in  dispute.  On  perceiving  their 
di'ift,  Standisli  appealed  for  protection  to  the  King.  Tbe  two 
parties  were  immediately  brought  into  collision :  tbe  clergy 
urged  the  King  to  maintain  bis  coronation  oath  and  defend 
the  rights  of  the  Church  ;  tbe  temporal  lords  appealed  to  the 
same  oath  in  maintenance  of  the  rights  of  the  subject,  and  of 
Standish  in  particular.  A  commission,  consisting  of  the 
judges,  the  privy  council,  certain  spiritual  and  temporal  lords, 
and  a  few  members  from  the  Parliament,  was  ordered  by  the 
King  to  assemble  at  Blackfriars,  and  try  tbe  question.  Tbe 
arguments  employed  on  both  sides  are  worthy  of  notice  ;  and 
even  if  the  report  of  them — preserved  by  a  lawyer — was 
favourable  to  Standisli,  tbe  line  of  defence  which  he  adopted 
was  marked  with  so  much  ability  as  ought  to  modify  the 
unfavourable  judgment  left  us  by  Erasmus  of  the  friar's 
ignorance  and  bigotry.  Ultimately  the  judges  determined 
that  Convocation  by  its  proceedings  against  Standisli  bad 
incurred  the  guilt  of  prcemunire ;  and  to  this  judgment  tbey 
appended  a  clause  more  in  accordance  with  the  17th  than  the 
16th  century,  that  the  King,  if  he  pleased,  could  bold  a 
Parliament  by  himself  and  the  temporal  lords  and  commons, 
without  the  assistance  of  tbe  spirituality,  who  had  no  place 
there  except  by  virtue  of  their  temporal  possessions.  On  this 
Wolsey,  then  Archbishop  of  York,  kneeled  down  before  the 
King,  and  assured  him  that  the  clergy  bad  no  intention  of 
doing  anything  prejudicial  to  tbe  Crown  ;  and  he  for  one, 
who  owed  bis  advancement  solely  to  bis  Majesty,  would  never 


252  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  YHL  [A.D. 

assent  to  anything  in  derogation  of  the  royal  authority.  The 
clergy,  he  ui'ged,  had  acted  in  good  faith  in  this  matter,  and 
conformably  to  the  duty,  as  they  believed,  imposed  upon  them 
by  their  oaths  in  defence  of  the  liberties  of  the  Church,  and 
he  prayed  the  King  to  allow  the  matter  to  be  referred  to  the 
Pope  and  his  council  at  Eome.  The  King  answered,  "  We 
think  Dr.  Standish  has  replied  to  you  sufliciently  on  all 
points."  Fox,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  said,  "  Sir,  I  warrant 
you  Dr.  Standish  will  not  abide  by  his  opinion  at  his  peril." 
Standish  rejoined,  "What  should  one  poor  friar  do  alone 
against  all  the  bishops  and  clergy  of  England  ?  "  Then  said 
the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury :  in  former  days  many  holy 
fathers  resisted  the  law  of  the  land  on  this  point,  and  some 
suffered  martyrdom  in  the  quarrel.  Fineux,  Chief  Justice, 
answered,  that  the  conventing  of  clerks  before  the  lay  judges 
had  been  practised  by  many  holy  kings,  and  many  fathers  of 
the  Church  had  agreed  to  it ;  adding,  "  If  a  clerk  be  arrested 
by  the  secular  authority  for  murder  or  felony,  and  is  com- 
mitted to  the  clergy  by  the  temporal  judge,  you  of  the  clergy 
have  no  authority  by  your  laws  to  try  him."  Hereupon  the 
King  said,  "  We  are  by  the  sufferance  of  God  king  of  England, 
and  the  kings  of  England  in  times  past  never  had  any 
superior  but  God  ;  know,  therefore,  that  we  will  maintain  the 
rights  of  the  crown  in  this  matter  like  our  progenitors ;  and 
as  for  your  decrees,  we  are  satisfied  that  even  you  of  the 
spiritualty  act  expressly  against  the  words  of  several  of  them, 
as  has  been  well  shown  you  by  some  of  our  spiritual  council. 
You  interpret  your  decrees  at  your  pleasure ;  but  as  for  me,  I 
will  never  consent  to  your  desire,  any  more  than  my  pro- 
genitors have  done."  The  Convocation,  in  their  answer, 
disavowed  in  humble  and  earnest  terms  any  wish  to  interfere 
with  the  prerogative,  but  they  claimed  the  right  of  discussing 
questions  affecting  the  Church  with  the  same  unrestricted 
liberty  as  questions  touching  the  clergy  were  discussed  in  the 
Parliament.  They  said:  "at  sundry  times  divers  of  the 
parliament  speak  divers  and  many  things,  not  only  against 
men  of  the  Church  and  against  the  laws  of  the  Church, 
but  also  sometimes  against  the  king's  laws,  for  the  which 
neither  the  king  nor  the  prelates  of  the  Church  have 
punished  them,  nor  yet  desireth  any  punishment  for  their 
so  speaking."  ^ 

A  little  study  of  these  two  remarkable  documents  will  be 

1  11.  1313,  1314. 


1515.]  THE   ROYAL   SUPREMACY  NO   NEW  THING.  253 

sufficient  to  dissipate   many  i")opular  misconceptions  of  the 
progress,  purpose,  and  character  of  the  Keformation  in  Eng- 
land, if  those  misconceptions  have  not  been  shaken  ah'eady. 
The  notions  that  the  royal  supremacy  leapt  full-armed  from 
the  brains  of  Henry  VIII.,  that  the  clergy  were  irresponsible 
even  in  spiritual  matters,  or  that  the  Pope  could  dictate  from 
Eome  to  the  Sovereigns  of  this  country,  at  least  to  Henry  VIII. 
or  Henry  VII.,   beyond  what  those  princes  were  willing  to 
allow, — still  more,  that  on  the  papal  fiat  depended  the  abstract 
right  or  wrong  of  any  question  in  the  minds  of  the  people — 
are  idle  phantoms.     The  canon  law  had  grown  up  side  by  side 
with  the  laws  of  the  realm.     In  the  weakness  and  imperfection 
of  other  laws,  it  seemed  no  more  than  fitting  that  the  clergy, 
as  a  siDiritual  body,  should  be  governed  by  spiritual  laws : — 
the  encroachments  of  those  laws,  and  the  difficulty  of  adjust- 
ing them  with  the  temporal  laws,  provoked  frequent  disputes  ; 
but  then  it  remained  with  the  King  to  decide  how  far  those 
spiritual  laws  should  be  operative.     Convocation  could  pass  no 
canons  without  the  King's  consent  ;  no  bull  or  ecclesia^stical 
constitution  could    be  published  in  this  country  without  his 
sanction ;  no  bishop,  no  abbot,  no  prior  could  assume  their 
several   offices  without  the   royal  permission.      As   a   right, 
though  not  always  as  a  fact,  the  supremacy  of  the  King  had 
continued  from  time  immemorial :  the  usurpations  upon  that 
right  were  resisted  and  modified  by  the  energy  and  will  of  the 
Sovereign.      But   in   the   reign   of   Henry   VIII.    the   papal 
authority  in  England  had  ceased  to  be  anything  more  than  a 
form — a  decorum  to  be  observed — a  concession  to  the  opinions 
and  usages  of  the  age,  which  no  orthodox  son  of  the  Church 
would  wilfully  or  pointedly  disregard,  and  so  put  himself  out- 
side the  pale   of  Christendom,   and  excommunicate   himself 
from  what  was  then  considered  as  "  decent  society."     And 
here,  the  question  discussed  between  Standish  and  his  oppo- 
nents, supposed  to  have  been  settled  for  ever  by  the  blood  of 
St.  Thomas,  is  just  as  rife  in  men's  minds,  and  as  far  from 
adjustment,  as  it  was  three  centuries  and  a  half  before.     The 
King's  supremacy  is  as  vital  and  energetic  a  principle  in  the 
minds  of  lawyers  and  divines,  the  peril  of  iircemunire  as  real, 
as  when  at  the  fall  of  Wolsey  the  King  exerted  that  authority 
which  here  he  was  satisfied  merely  with  asserting. 

And  what,  perhaps,  is  no  less  curious,  the  part  taken  by 
Standish  presents  him  and  the  friars,  of  whom  he  was  the 
representative,  in  a  very  different  light  from  that  in  which  tlio 


254  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D, 

religious  orders  appear  in  popular  histories/  or  in  the 
sarcastic  anecdotes  of  Erasmus.  In  giving  due  weight  to  the 
testimony  of  Erasmus  it  should  be  remembered  that  it  is  the 
hatred  of  the  scholar  and  the  wit,  the  man  of  refinement,  of 
somewhat  epicurean  tastes  and  habits,  for  the  vulgar,  coarse, 
and  popular  preacher  of  the  day.  It  was  the  judgment  of  the 
exquisite  critic,  of  the  favoured  visitant  at  the  marble  palaces 
of  bishops  and  cardinals,  upon  the  half- educated  priest,  very 
little  removed  from  the  low  and  uneducated  classes  amongst 
whom  he  laboured,  and  over  whom  he  exercised  unbounded 
control.  Atheism,  talking  Greek  in  high  places,  and  armed 
with  correct  Latinity,  was  a  less  disagreeable  sight  to  Erasmus 
than  piety  in  bad  Latin,  violating  the  rules  of  Lily's  grammar. 
The  friars  were  the  assertors  of  the  popular  cause  against  the 
aristocracy  and  the  hierarchy ;  at  one  time,  they  sujDported 
Kings  against  both  orders,  braved  them  at  another  when  their 
authority  was  oppressive; — but  coarse,  energetic,  and  turbulent 
in  whatever  they  undertook. 

In  fact  the  sixteenth  century  was  not  a  mass  of  moral 
corruption  out  of  which  life  emerged  by  some  process  unknown 
to  art  or  nature ;  it  was  not  an  addled  egg  cradling  a  living 
bird  ;  quite  the  reverse.  Fervet  tottis  mundus  injustitia  sua  con- 
stituenda,  is  the  repeated  cry  of  Luther  ;  ^  and  an  age  busied 
with  the  great  questions  of  righteousness,  whether  of  faith  or 
works,  is  not  a  demoralized  or  degenerate  age,  at  all  events, 
however  roughly  and  rudely  the  discussion  may  be  carried  on. 
These  are  not  the  thoughts  which  trouble  the  hearts  of  men 
buried  in  sensuality.  It  was  an  age  instinct  with  vast  animal 
life,  robust  health,  and  muscular  energy,  terrible  in  its  rude 
and  unrefined  appetites,  its  fiery  virtues,  and  fierce  passions. 
It  had  risen  from  the  sleep  of  the  last  century  "like  a  giant 
refreshed  with  wine."  It  was  this  new  vigour  and  strength 
which  alarmed  those  who  had  hitherto  deemed  its  old  guides 
sufficient,  and  were  tempted  to  draw  closer  the  ancient  bonds, 
and  knit  them  more  firmly  together.  State  super  vias  antiquas 
was  the  cry  of  those  who,  unwilling  to  look  forward,  saw  with 
reluctance  the  scaffolding  giving  way  under  which  the  building 

^  Unfortunately,  in  all  our  popular  but    against    "  good  works,"   and  the 

histories    the    Reformation    has   been  stress  laid  upon  them  by  the  ailvocates 

presented  from  the  Elizabethan  point  of  the  old  religion.     If  that  religion 

of  view,  when  men's  impressions  and  had  been  in  its  practice  so  generally 

notions  about  it  had  undergone  great  corrupt,  as  it  is  represented  to  have 

changes  from  a  variety  of  causes.  been  by  modern  writers,  such  denun- 

^  Luther's   most    earnest    remon-  ciations  were  idle, 
strances  were  directed,  not  against  bad, 


1515.] 


CONSERVATISM  AND   THE   REFORMATION. 


255 


had  risen  to  such  grand  and  majestic  proportions.  Under 
that  oht  system  England  had  emerged  from  barbarism  to 
civiUzation ;  from  wandering  hordes  of  broken  tribes  to  the 
unity  of  a  great  nation  ;  from  hovels  of  clay  to  cathedrals  and 
palaces ;  from  the  outsconrings  of  Saxons,  Danes,  and 
Normans,  to  a  great,  strong,  and  independent  people.  It  was 
the  admiration  of  the  world  for  its  material  wealth  and  pros- 
perity; it  was  not  given  to  lying,  as  historians  nowadays 
tell  us,  but  manly,  candid,  and  trustworthy ;  too  honest  and 
straightforward  to  believe  in  deceit,  and  therefore,  as  State 
papers  show,  too  easy  to  be  deceived.  State  super  vias  antiquas, 
cried  men  who  looked  back  upon  the  goodly  deeds  of  their 
forefathers,  as  Englishmen  will  every  now  and  then  cry  out 
by  reason  of  their  conservative  instincts  ;  as  all  men  naturally 
will  cry  out  who  have  a  past  upon  which  they  can  and  they 
dare  look  back.  So  the  stronger  went  forward,  and  the  timid 
stayed  behind  ;  not  necessarily  less  earnest  or  less  morally 
pm-e  than  the  bolder  and  more  advanced  ;  for  among  laymen 
Sir  Thomas  More  was  surely  as  honest  as  Cromwell  or  Eich,  and 
among  churchmen  Fisher  was  as  conscientious  as  Cranmer.^ 


'  "  Whereupon  Gargantua,  fearful 
lest  tlie  child  should  hurt  himself, 
caused  four  great  chains  of  iron  to  be 
made  to  bind  him,  and  so  many  strong 
wooden  arches  unto  his  cradle  most 
firmly  stacked  and  morticed  in  huge 
frames.  .  .  .  Thus  continued  Panta- 
gruel  [the  genius  of  the  Reformation] 
for  a  while,  very  calm  and  quiet,  for 
he  was  not  able  so  easily  to  break 
those  chains,  especially  having  no 
room  in  the  cradle  to  give  a  swing 
with  his  arms.  But  see  what  hap- 
pened once  on  a  great  holiday  that  his 
father  Gargantua  made  a  sumptuous 
banquet  to  all  the  princes  of  his  court. 
Hark  what  he  did,  good  people  !  He 
strove  and  essayed  to  break  the  chains 
of  the  cradle  with  his  arms,  but  could 
not,  for  they  were  too  strong  for  him. 
Then  did  he  keep  with  his  feet  [i.e. 
the  masses]  such  a  stamping,  and  so 
long,  that  at  last  he  beat  out  the 
lower  end  of  his  cradle,  which  not- 
withstanding was  made  of  a  great 
post  five  feet  square ;  and  as  soon  as 
he  had  gotten  out  his  feet,  he  slid 
down  as  well  as  he  could  till  he  had 
got  hie  soles  to  the  ground,  and  then 


with  a  mighty  force  he  rose  up  carrv- 
ing  his  cradle  upon  his  liack  lionnd  to 
him,  like  a  tortoise  that  crawls  up 
against  a  wall.  In  this  manner  he 
entered  into  the  great  hall  where  they 
were  banqueting,  and  that  very  boldly, 
and  did  much  aifright  the  company ; 
yet,  because  his  arms  were  tied  in,  he 
could  not  reach  anything  to  eat,  but' 
with  great  pain  stooped  now  and  then 
a  little  to  take  with  the  whole  flat  of 
his  tongue  some  good  lick,  good  bit  or 
morsel  [i.e.  popular  liberties,  at  first, 
after  the  Reformation  more  slowly 
and  grudgingly  conceded].  Which 
wlien  his  father  saw,  he  saw  well 
enough  that  they  had  left  him  without 
giving  him  anything  to  eat,  and  tliere- 
foi'c  commanded  that  ho  should  bo 
loosed  from  the  said  chains.  .  .  .  When 
he  was  unchained  they  made  him  sit 
down,  where  after  he  had  fed  very 
well  [the  increase  of  science  and 
education],  ho  took  his  cradle  and 
broke  it  into  more  than  five  hundred 
thousand  pieces,  witli  oiio  blow  of  his 
fist,  sw(!aring  lie  would  never  come 
into  it  again." — Rabelais,  ii.  4. 


256  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WOLSEY,    CAKDINAL    AND    LEGATE. 

It  was  during  the  period  of  which  we  have  just  been  treating 
,.ihat  Wolsey's  fortunes  reached  their  culminating  point.  The 
V^  marriage  of  Mary  with  Lewis  XII.  had  greatly  advanced  his 
\  influence.  It  established  him  in  the  confidence  of  the  royal 
family  as  no  minister  in  his  own  time  or  before  him,  had  ever 
been ;  not  even  Suffolk,  the  King's  brother-in-law.  The  terms 
in  which  he  addresses  Mary  and  Margaret,  and  even  Katharine 
of  Arragon,  indicate  the  familiar  footing  on  which  he  was 
received  by  the  different  branches  of  the  royal  family.  His 
first  letter  to  Mary,^  then  a  widow  and  a  Queen,  is  conceived 
more  in  the  tone  of  a  personal  friend  than  of  a  prime  minister. 
He  begs  her,  "for  the  old  service  he  has  done  her,"  to  make 
no  rash  engagements  ;  "  and  for  my  part,"  he  concludes,  "  to 
the  effusion  of  my  blood  and  spending  of  my  goods  I  shall 
never  forsake  nor  leave  you."  Strange  language  this  to  come 
from  the  lips  of  a  minister  to  a  Queen  in  the  time  of  the 
Tudors !  And  both  Queens,  though  neither  loved  him,  were 
accustomed  to  this  somewhat  magisterial  tone,  and  rephed  to 
him  in  terms  of  respect  and  submission.  Of  the  light  in 
which  he  was  regarded  by  the  King  evidence  has  been  given 
already.  To  the  Pope  he  addressed  himself  in  the  canonized 
terms  of  humihty,  such  as  no  Sovereign,  much  less  a  Bishop 
of  those  times,  whatever  his  power  or  however  bitter  his 
resentment,  would  for  a  moment  think  of  neglecting ;  but  if 
Leo  X.  ever  dreamed  of  temporizing  with  Wolsey,  or  putting 
him  off  with  promises  and  apologies,  he  was  quickly  made  to 
feel  who  was  the  real  pontiff  of  the  West.  His  enemies 
accounted  him  haughty  and  imperious ;  and  much  more 
humility  or  moderation  than  Wolsey  possessed  could  scarcely 
have  escaped  the  imputation.  Such  a  sight  as  this  Cardinal 
presented  was  not  common  to  the  eyes  of  Christendom.     The 

1  11.  15. 


1515-18.]  wolsey's  power.  257 

great  nobles  could  obtain  no  audience  of  him  until  after  four 
or  five  applications ;  foreign  ambassadors  not  even  then. 
"  He  is  omnipotent,"  says  Erasmus,  writing  to  Cardinal 
Grimani,^  "All  the  power  of  the  state  is  centred  in  him,"  is 
the  observation  of  Giustinian;^  "he  is  in  fact  ipse  rex.'' 
"  ^Yhether  it  be  by  necromancy,  witchcraft,  or  policy,  no  man 
knoweth,"  ^  murmured  the  people  in  taverns  and  highways. 
Yet  undisputed  as  was  the  supremacy  of  this  great  minister,  it 
was  surely  no  more  than  might  have  been  expected.  In  genius, 
in  penetration,  m  aptitude  for  business,  and  indefatigable 
labour,  he  had  no  equal.  All  despatches  addressed  to  am- 
bassadors abroad  or  at  home  passed  through  his  hands  ; — the 
entire  political  correspondence  of  the  times  was  submitted  to 
his  perusal,  and  waited  for  his  decision.  Before  a  single 
measure  was  submitted  to  the  Privy  Council,  it  was  shaped 
by  Wolsey's  hands  ;  he  managed  it  unaided  and  alone  when  it 
had  passed  their  approval.  Fox,  the  only  minister  of  any 
experience,  seldom  attended ;  Suffolk  dared  not  offer  opposi- 
tion. Norfolk,  who  had  endeavoured  and  once  had  partly 
succeeded  in  thwarting  Wolsey's  authority,  had  been  defeated 
and  yielded.  He  was  too  haughty  to  conceal  a  temper  not 
less  imperious  than  the  Cardinal's,  and  wanted  the  flexibility 
and  courtesy  of  manner  required  in  a  successful  courtier.  Of 
the  rest,  Euthal  was  "the  treble  to  Wolsey's  bass;"  Lovell 
and  Sir  Henry  Marney  without  influence.  Serious  disputes 
had  arisen  more  than  once,  and  endangered  the  Cardinal's 
position.  "Here  is  a  great  snarling  in  the  Privy  Council," 
writes  Thomas  Allen  to  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  "  insomuch 
that  my  lord  Cardinal  said  to  Sir  Henry  Marney,  that  the 
same  Sir  Henry  had  done  more  displeasure  unto  the  king's 
grace,  by  reason  of  his  cruelty  against  the  great  estates  of  this 
realm  than  any  man  living.  .  .  .  The  Cardinal  and  Sir  William 
Compton  are  marvellous  great.  .  .  .  The  lord  IMarquis 
(Dorset),  the  earl  of  Surrey  (afterwards  duke  of  Norfolk),  and 
the  Lord  Abergavenny  were  put  out  of  the  Council  chamber 
within  these  four  days,  whatever  that  did  mean."^  The  same 
writer,  a  few  weeks  after,  advises  the  earl  not  to  come  up  to 
London  ;  "  for  there  are  some  things  come  not  so  well  to 
pass" — alluding  to  the  ill  success  of  Wolsey's  policy  with 
Maximilian — "  wherein  feiv  were  of  counsel,  as  the  beginners 
of  the  same  thought  they  would  have  done.     I  hear  some 

'  March  .31,  15]  5.  '   II.  2733. 

="  iJ.  108G,  laSO.  *  May  31,  151G.     19.09. 

VOL.  I.  S 


258  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

things  which  are  not  to  be  written."  ^  These  obscure  remarks 
receive  further  illustration  from  a  letter  of  Giustinian  :^  "  For 
many  days  and  months  past  the  Bishop  of  Winchester  (Fox) 
and  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  (Warham),  who  were 
principal  members  of  the  government,  have  withdrawn  them- 
selves, on  account,  it  is  said,  of  the  succour  given  to  the 
Emperor  against  the  King  of  France.^  Canterbury  was  Lord 
Chancellor,  and  Winchester  Privy  Seal,  both  which  ofiices  are 
of  extreme  importance,  and  have  been  resigned  by  them.  The 
Chancellorship  has  been  conferred  on  the  Cardinal,  the  Privy 
Seal  on  the  Bishop  of  Durham.  The  Duke  of  Suffolk,  who 
married  the  queen-widow  of  France,  has  also  absented  him- 
self; it  is  said  he  is  not  so  much  in  favour  with  the  king  as 
before.  Sir  Thomas  Lovel,  an  old  servant  of  the  late  and  the 
present  king,  a  person  of  great  authority,  seems  also  to  have 
withdrawn  himself,  and  interferes  little  in  the  government. 
So  the  whole  direction  of  affairs  rests,  to  the  dissatisfaction  of 
everybody,  with  the  right  reverend  Cardinal,  the  bishop  of 
Durham  and  the  lord  Treasurer  (Norfolk)." 

Wolsey's  position  was  not  a  bed  of  roses.  Exposed  by  his 
monopoly  of  the  King's  favour  to  the  envy  of  the  nobility  in 
general ;  to  the  odium  of  one  class  for  his  cardinalate,  of 
another  for  his  impartial  justice  or  his  rigid  economy;  what- 
ever line  of  policy  he  found  it  necessary  to  adopt  he  was 
opposed  by  one  party  or  more  in  the  nation.  To  the  people 
in  general  an  alliance  with  France  was  as  distasteful  as  ever ; 
to  the  nobility  it  was  otherwise.  The  statesmen  of  the  old 
school  believed  that  union  with  France  implied  peace  in 
Christendom,  with  plenty  and  economy  at  home.  To  them  a 
German  alliance  seemed  but  a  shadow,  or  a  bottomless  waste. 
Yet  popular  wilfulness  compelled  the  wiser  not  unfrequently 
to  abandon  their  better  convictions,  and  sacrifice  the  real 
interests  of  England  to  popular  clamour.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  German  was  identified  even  then,  and  still  more  in  the 
sequel,  with  opposition  to  the  Pope.  So  disputes  sprang  up 
in  the  Council  upon  the  questions  of  its  foreign  policy ;  Fox, 
Warham,  and  Suffolk,  who  supported  French  interests,  with- 
drew, but  only  for  a  time, — not  out  of  hatred  to  Wolsey,  as 
Polydore  Vergil  represents,  for  all  were  present  at  the  cere- 
monies when  Wolsey  received  the  cardinal's  hat,^  and  Suffolk 

'   11.2018.  the  French  and  the  German.     Norfolk 

2  July  17,  1516,  sided  with  the  latter  throughout. 
'  There  were  two   parties  in  the  *  II.  1153. 

cabinet,  as  in   the  nation  at  large — 


1515-18.]  WOLSEY'S   DIFFICULTIES.  2-39 

was  always  desirous  of  reconciliation.  Fox  appeared  at  the 
Council  in  November,  1515,  again  in  November,  1516,^  after 
he  is  represented  as  having  laid  down  his  office  and  per- 
manently retired ;  again  in  December  interceding  for  the  papal 
nuncio,  Chieregato  ;  ^  and  again  in  January,  1517;^ — facts 
inconsistent  with  Polydore's  account.  Opposed  to  Wolsey's 
imperial  policy,  on  the  marriage  of  Mary  with  Lewis  XII. 
Fox  wrote  to  the  Cardinal  "  that  was  the  best  deed  ever  done 
for  England."* 

In  further  illustration  of  this  obscure  subject,  so  important 
for  a  clear  understanding  of  the  times,  we  have  a  remarkable 
letter  of  Wolsey,  addressed  to  De  Giglis,  Bishop  of  Worcester, 
the  English  agent  ?,t  the  Vatican.  The  Bishop  had  reported 
to  Wolsey  certain  rumours  then  current  at  Eome,  of  a  con- 
spiracy formed  by  some  parties  in  England  to  work  his 
destruction  by  the  aid  of  France ;  and  of  this  the  Pope  had 
desired  him  to  take  warning.^  Wolsey  replied  ^  that  it  was 
impossible  to  describe  the  King's  gratitude  for  the  information 
communicated  by  the  Pope; — not  that  he  was  really  appre- 
hensive of  any  danger,  for  there  was  no  king  in  the  world 
more  ardently  beloved  or  more  respected  by  his  subjects.  His 
very  looks,  he  added,  strike  terror  into  evil-doers.  As  for 
himself  and  his  administration,  the  kingdom  was  never  in 
greater  unity  or  repose  than  at  present,  "  tanti  enim  justitiam 
ct  oequitatem  facio,  absit  jactantice  crimen  ;  and  were  I  to  offer 
to  resign  I  am  sure  neither  the  king  nor  his  nobles  would 
permit  it." 

Possibly  he  might  overrate  his  popularity  with  the  nobles, 
but  his  confidence  in  his  own  administration  of  justice 
was  well  founded.  His  worst  enemies,  his  most  incessant 
maligners,  were  reluctantl}^  compelled  to  admit  that  in  his 
functions  as  Chancellor  he  behaved  admirably.'^     To  that  post 

'   II.  2559.  and  has  the  reputation  of  being  ox- 

*  II.  264:3.  tretnely    just ;    ho   favors    the  people 

*  II.  2839.  exceedingly,  and  especially  the  jwor, 

*  TI.  45-10.  hearing    their    suits    and    seeking    to 

*  The  French  faction  were  the  despatch  thetn  instantly.  ]Io  also 
chief  authors  of  Wolsey's  fall  in  after  makes  the  lawyers  plead  gratis  for  all 
life,  and  Suffolk  the  instrument  then,  paupers."  This  is  the  testimony  of 
as  he  seems  to  be  alluded  to  now ;  Giustinian,  who  assuredly  was  not 
whether  set  on  by  others  or  his  own  partial  to  Wolsey.  "In  matlers  of 
suggestion  is  uncertain.  He  was  judicature  he  behaved  himstilf  coin- 
signally  insincere  and  ungrateful.  iricndubiy.  I  hear  no  widows'  sighs 
The  reader  will  do  well  to  peruse,  in  nor  see  orphans' tears  in  our  chronicles 
reference  to  this  topic,  Pace's  remark-  caused  by  him.  Sure  in  sucli  casoa 
able  letters.  wherein    his    private  ends  made  him 

'   1 1.  .397.'{.  not     a     p.'irt.y,    ho    was    an    <'X(u>ll(int 

'    ll.i'Mi).^  155Z.     "  Ue  is  peoBive       justicier." — Fuller's  Holy  fcJtatc,  iv.  ;i. 


260  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

he  had  been  appointed  on  the  resignation  of  Warham,  22nd  of 
December,  1515  ;  not  as  Polydore  Vergil  represents,  in  con- 
sequence of  a  successful  intrigue,  but  at  the  earnest  request 
of  the  King.^  More's  commendation  of  him  is  well  known.^ 
"  The  archbishop,"  he  says,  "  has  succeeded  at  last  in  getting 
quit  of  the  chancellorship,  which  he  has  been  laboring  to  do 
for  some  years.  The  king  has  nominated  Wolsey  in  his 
room,  who  acquits  himself  so  well  as  to  outdo  all  men's 
expectations ; — and,  what  must  be  admitted  to  be  very  difficult, 
even  after  so  excellent  a  predecessor  he  gives  the  greatest 
satisfaction."  The  testimony  of  Fox  is  to  the  same  effect. 
At  the  time  when  the  Bishop  is  represented  as  withdrawing 
from  the  council  table  in  disgust,  he  wrote  from  his  retreat  to 
Wolsey,  who  was  anxious  to  bring  him  to  court,  that  if  he 
had  not  the  most  satisfactorv  reason  for  his  absence  in  his 
anxiety  to  visit  his  diocese  after  twenty-eight  years  of  neglect, 
he  should  be  very  ungrateful  and  forgetful,  considering 
Wolsey's  goodness  to  him  in  times  past.  He  professed  that 
no  one  had  ever  greater  will  to  serve  the  King  than  he,  espe- 
cially since  Wolsey's  great  charge  (of  the  Chancellorship)  ; — 
"  perceiving  better,  straighter,  and  speedier  ways  of  justice, 
and  more  diligence  and  labor  for  the  king's  rights,  duties,  and 
profits  to  be  in  you,  than  ever  I  see  in  times  past  in  any  other." 
And  he  adds  a  remark,  which  will  seem  strange  to  those  who 
are  accustomed  to  draw  their  notions  of  these  times  from 
popular  histories, — that  his  absence  was  not  to  hunt  or  hawk, 
nor  yet  for  quietness  of  his  mind,  which  is  troubled  night  and 
day  with  other  men's  iniquities  more  than  he  dare  write ;  of 
which  Wolsey  told  him  he  had  some  hiiowledge  when  he  urns 
rshop  of  Lincoln.''  ^ 

In  the  same  letter  Fox  urges  him  to  lay  aside  all  business 
"  from  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  forward,"  thus  showing  the 
Cardinal's  indefatigable  labours.  He  rose  at  an  early  hour  of 
the  morning  and  regularly  heard  mass ;  then  mounting  his 
mule  he  proceeded  to  Westminster  Hall ;  ^  was  engaged  in 

•  II.  1551.  ingfs.     "  If  I  had  served  my  God  with 

^  More,   in    a   letter  addressed  to  half  the  zeal  I  had  served  my  king," 

Warham,  after  his  resignation,  speaks  was  not   a  temporary   regret    wrung 

of  the  difficulty  the  Archbishop  had  to  from  him  in    the    moment   of    disap- 

encounter  in  prevailing  upon  the  King  pointment,  but  a  thought  and  some- 

to  allow  him  to  resign. — II.  Appendix,  thing  more  that  had  flashed  ever  and 

3G.  anon  across  his  mind  through  his  long 

'  II.    1814.     This   passage    shows  and  arduous  administration. — See  also 

how    keenly    Shakspeare,    under    all  Cavendish,  by  Singer,  p.  105. 

disadvantages,    had    penetrated   into  *  Cavendish    speaks   of  his  being 

the  under-current  of  Wolsey's   feel-  attended  on  his  way  to  Westminster 


1515-18.]  WOLSEY'S   INCESSANT   LABOURS.  2(31 

court  until  eleven,  and  when  business  required  it  passed  from 
the  court  of  Chancery  to  the  Star  Chamber.  Every  Sunday 
whilst  the  court  was  at  Greenwich,  which  generally  happened 
dmiug  the  winter  months,  he  visited  the  Iving.  What  remained 
of  the  day  after  these  duties  were  over,  was  spent  in  drawing 
despatches,  giving  audience  to  ambassadors,  attending  to  the 
political  news  and  correspondence  of  the  times,  introducing 
a  more  regular  and  economical  system  into  the  different 
branches  of  the  administration — of  finance  and  customs  espe- 
cially. Before  his  time  the  accounts  had  been  kept  very 
irregularly  :  long  arrears  of  debts  were  allowed  to  accumulate  ; 
large  sums  had  been  advanced  by  the  Crown  to  noblemen  and 
parasites  with  no  expectation  of  repayment ;  its  rights  and 
sources  of  revenue  had  been  clogged  and  straitened  in  various 
ways ; — all  these  it  was  Wolsey's  province  to  bring  into  a 
state  of  efficiency.-^  As  might  be  expected,  these  reforms 
drew  down  great  odium  upon  him,  and  the  charge  of  penurious- 
ness.  To  one  naturally  profuse  Hke  Henry  VIII.,  surrounded 
by  extravagant  young  men,  who  wasted  large  sums  of  money 
at  play  and  upon  the  absurd  and  fantastic  fashions  of  the 
times,  the  Cardinal's  conduct  in  this  respect  was  easily  mis- 
represented. To  these  temporal  duties  were  added  his  eccle- 
siastical, as  Cardinal  and  legate. 

Yet  his  health  was  by  no  means  strong,  nor  was  the  advice 
of  Fox  unneeded.  Throughout  the  four  years  embraced  in 
this  volume  Wolsey  was  continually  ailing.  Four  times  he 
was  attacked  by  the  sweating  sickness.^  In  June,  1517,  his 
life  was  despaired  of ;  in  August  his  household  and  himself 
were  again  suffering  from  the  popular  epidemic.^    In  October, 

Hall  "with  noblemen  and  gentlemen  straitened   circumstances. — See    Byr- 

of  his  own  family ;  "—an  expression  chinshaw's  letter  to  Wolsey,  II.  4(i92. 

intended  apparently  to  apply  to  the  Of    the    gentlemen    in    his    service, 

young    gentlemen    and    noblemen    in  Jerningham  writes  : 
Wolsey's  service.      Giustinian  speaks  "  I  had  obtained  a  taboret  for  your 

of  two  brothers  of  the  Cardinal,  one  grace,  who  plays  reasonably  well,  bnt 

of  whom,  he  says,  held  a  benefice.     I  is    oftentimes    overseen    with    drink, 

have   found  no  notice  of  either,  or  of  which   me  seemed  was  not  meet   for 

any  other  member  of  Wolsey's  family,  your  grace,  nor  to  bo  in  the  company 

with  one  exception.  There  is  a  petition  of  so  many  young  gentlemen  as  your 

to  him  from  one  John  Fayrechild,  son  grace  hafli  in  your  service." — Jerning- 

of    Elizabeth    Wulcy,    the    Cardinal's  ham  to  Wolsey,  IT.  3202. 
sister,  desiring  some   small   place,  as  '  Of     the     enormous    numl)cr    of 

comptroller  of  the  works  of  Tournay  debtors  to  the  Ci'own,  and  the  sums 

(II.  13(;8).     But  the  applicant's  name  invested,  the   reader  may  gain  some 

does    not  occur  again   in    connection  notion    from    the    list    of    loans    and 

with  any  oflicc.     His  family  received  recognizances  in  II.  pp.  118I-1490. 
no  benefit  from  his  high  offices;  even  *  II.  3372. 

Wynter,  his   reputed  son,  now  about  '  11.  3G38. 

fourteen     years     (;ld,     was     kept    in 


262  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

1518,  he  was  too  unwell  to  receive  the  visits  of  the  foreign 
ambassadors.-^  Yet  no  interruption  took  place  in  the  business 
of  the  nation.  Despatches  passed  and  repassed  with  their 
usual  punctuality.  Scotland,  ready  to  throw  the  borders  into 
disorder  and  insurrection,  was  restrained ;  Spain  and  the 
Netherlands  kept  on  the  best  terms  ;  and  France,  tired  of  war, 
and  anxious  for  an  alliance  with  England,  was  entertained 
and  certainly  outwitted  in  its  negociations  for  Tournay. 

That  he  was  peremptory,  unceremonious,  and  sometimes 
lost  his  temper,  must  be  admitted, — will  probably  have  been 
expected  by  those  who  consider  his  excessive  labours.  The 
extreme  difficulties  of  his  position,  the  impatience  of  a  man 
of  great  genius  and  penetration  at  the  interruptions,  follies, 
and  contradictions  to  which  he  was  exposed  by  conceited 
mediocrity  or  pertinacious  self-interest,  were  a  sore  trial  to 
a  man  incessantly  employed  and  fully  alive  to  the  value  of 
minutes.  The  prudence  and  apprehensions  of  modern  times 
have  divided  the  great  offices  once  centred  in  Wolsey,  and  in 
him  only.  His  position  and  power  were  exceptional,  and 
"must  be  judged  accordingly.  He  was  responsible  to  no  one 
except  his  Sovereign;  and  the  King,  occupied  with  fears  of 
the  plague  or  amusements  at  court,  or  well  satisfied  with  his 
minister,  had  little  reason  to  interfere  and  less  to  condemn. 
Suitors  complained  that  Wolsey  was  hard  of  access,  that  he 
displayed  his  resentments  too  openly,  that  he  adopted  too 
imperious  a  style  for  a  subject,  that  he  identified  himself  too 
much  with  his  own  political  measures,  and  proportioned  his 
anger  and  gratitude  accordingly.  In  one  instance  be  pro- 
ceeded to  lay  hands  on  the  papal  nuncio,  utterl}^  regardless 
of  his  sacred  character,  or  his  immunity  as  ambassador, 
declaring  that  if  the  nuncio  would  not  confess  the  nature  of 
his  communications  with  France,  he  should  be  put  on  the 
rack.^  The  report  was  probably  exaggerated.  Still,  for  a 
prime  minister  and  a  Cardinal  to  be  so  far  transported  beyond 
himself  was,  even  in  that  rough  age,  regarded  with  astonish- 
ment. On  another  occasion,  he  sent  for  Sebastian's  secretary, 
and  rated  him  soundly  :  "  I  charge  your  ambassador  and  you 
not  to  write  anything  out  of  this  kingdom  without  my  consent, 

'   II.  4510,  4529.     It  was  probably  or   substance    within    was   taken   out 

after  these  repeated  attacks,  and   to  and    filled    up    again  with  part   of    a 

prevent    their   recurrence,    that    the  sponge,  wherein  was  vinegar  and  other 

Cardinal  was  in  the  habit,  as  Caven-  confections  against  the  pestilent  airs." 

dish  relates,  of  carrying  "  in  his  hand  *  Dec.  7.  151fi. 
a  very  fair  orange,  whereof  the  meat 


1515-18.]  THE   PLOT  AGAINST   LEO   X.  263 

under  pain  of  the  King's  indignation  and  the  heaviest 
penalties  ;  "  and  these  words  he  repeated,  growing  more  and 
more  irritated  every  instant,  and  gnawing  a  cane  which  he 
held  in  his  hand.^  But  such  excessive  fits  of  irritation  were 
not  usual,  and  were  to  be  traced  in  these  instances  to  one  and 
the  same  cause,  in  which  a  curious  point  of  his  history  is 
involved. 

In  May,  1517,  two  Cardinals,  De  Sauli  and  Sienna,  were 
committed  to  the  castle  of  St.  Augelo,  for  attempting  to  poison 
Leo  X.  by  means  of  a  surgeon.^  Cardinal  St.  George,  papal 
chamberlain,  once  a  favourite  of  Julius  II.,  and  Cardinal 
Hadi'ian,  formerly  papal  collector  in  England,  and  Bishop  of 
Bath  and  Wells,  were  implicated  in  the  conspiracy;  St. 
George,  for  hearing  the  intemperate  threats  of  Sienna  without 
revealing  them  to  the  Pope  ;  Hadrian,  because  Sienna  had 
said  in  his  presence,  pointing  to  the  surgeon,  "That  fellow 
will  get  the  college  out  of  trouble."^  The  accusation  might 
have  been  treated  as  a  calumny,  had  not  Hadrian,  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,  fallen  at  the  Pope's  feet,  and  besought  his  mercy."* 
Against  Hadrian,  Leo  entertained  a  grudge  of  ancient  stand- 
ing. He  had  contrived,  under  the  pretence  of  befriending 
Hadrian,  to  exasperate  the  King  of  England  against  him,  and 
obtain  the  dismissal  of  Hadrian  and  his  deputy,  Polydore 
Vergil,  from  the  collectorship.  Possibly,  in  his  resentment  at 
the  Pope's  duplicity,  Hadrian  would  have  been  by  no  means 
unwilling  had  the  conspiracy  succeeded,  even  if  he  declined  to 
take  any  active  part  in  it  himself.  Sienna  was  put  to  death 
secretly.^  St.  George  purchased  peace  and  pardon  by  a  large 
sum  of  money.  Hadrian  fled  to  Venice,  from  which  place  he 
wrote  to  Wolsey  (19th  of  July),*^  begging  his  favourable  inter- 
cession with  the  King  and  the  Pope.  This  is  probably  the 
last  of  his  letters  that  has  been  preserved.  His  subsequent 
fate  is  hidden  in  impenetrable  mystery.  Great  efforts  were 
made  by  the  Venetians,  through  Sebastian,  their  ambassador 
in  England,  to  obtain  Hadrian's  restoration.  The  Venetian 
had  the  audacity  to  abstract  from  Wolsey's  packet  a  letter 
addressed  by  the  signory  in  favour  of  Hadrian,  and  present  it 

'   IL  3581.  that  Cardinal  St.  Gforgo  confessed  lio 

^  II.  .3277.  was  an  accoDii»lice,  uithout  the  torture 

3  II.  as.JC.  being  applied  (No.  3373).     The  notion 

*  II.  3352.     Tunstal,  speaking   of  of  putting  a  cardinal  on  the  rack  did 

his  communication  with  Fra  Nicolas,  not   seem    Htnnigo  to  Tuustal  or    his 

the  papal  comniiBKioner,  who  was  per-  corroHpondcnt. 

fectly  well  informed  on  this  subject,  *    II.  31(l(). 

states   that  this    friar   informed  him  "   II.  3193. 


264  THE   EEIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

to  the  King,  unknown  to  Wolsey.^  This  was  the  secret  of 
Wolsey's  wrath.  Sebastian,  who  would  not  otherwise  have 
been  admitted,  in  consequence  of  the  sweating  sickness,  pre- 
tended urgent  business ; — was  introduced,  presented  the 
letter,  and  met  the  rebuff  he  deserved.  The  King  told  him 
that  he  was  perfectly  well  acquainted  with  the  whole  affair, 
and  had  received  intelligence  from  the  Pope  that  Hadrian  had 
confessed,  and  was  to  be  degraded.  When  Sebastian  attempted 
to  excuse  the  Cardinal,  he  was  cut  short  by  the  curt  remark, 
"  I  understand  this  matter  better  than  you  Venetians !  " 
Sebastian  attributed  the  King's  displeasure  to  the  suggestions 
of  Wolsey,  who  had  obtained  the  see  of  Bath  in  commendam 
by  Hadrian's  disgrace.  The  offence  was  in  reality  of  much 
earlier  standing. 

Hadrian's  factor  in  England  was  Polydore  Vergil,^  the 
historian.  His  imprisonment  and  loss  of  employment  are 
notorious.  It  has  been  broadly  stated  by  most  English 
historians  that  his  imprisonment  was  owing  to  Wolsey's 
resentment,  who,  on  failing  to  receive  the  assistance  he  ex- 
pected from  Hadrian,  in  his  efforts  to  obtain  the  cardinalate, 
seized  his  deputy  collector,  and  committed  him  to  the  Tower. 
This  tale,  with  its  various  embellishments,  rests,  like  many 
others  in  which  historians  indulge  without  examination,  on 
mere  conjecture,  and  is  not  very  probable.  The  true  cause  of 
Polydore's  and  his  patron's  disgrace  are  laid  open  in  State 
papers.  A  wit — and,  like  wits,  not  always  very  careful  or 
scrupulous — Polydore  was  in  the  habit  of  writing  letters  from 
England  to  Hadrian,  reflecting  on  the  King,  Wolsey,  and 
others.  It  happened,  unfortunately  for  the  writer,  that  one  of 
these  letters  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  rival  Ammonius  ;  or, 
more  probably,  was  intercepted,  and  sent  to  Ammonius  from 
Eomei  It  is  not  hard  to  conjecture  that  Worcester  was  the 
agent.  The  intercepted  letter,^  was  shown  to  Wolsey  with 
certain  comments  expressing  the  Pope's  indignation.  In 
terms  neither  decent  nor  discreet  Vergil  had  thrown  out 
imputations  against  the  Pope  and  the  King.  He  had  called 
the  latter  a  mere  boy ;  said  he  was  ruled  by  others,  and  signed 
papers  without  being  acquainted  with  their  contents.  The 
Pope  stated  that  he  would  be  glad  to  have  an  opportunity  of 
chastising  Hadrian,  and  begged  that  his  and  Polydore's  letters 

^  II.  3558.  merchant  in  London.     II.  215,  2130. 

^  Vergil  was  not  an  assumed  name.  '  II.  215. 

He  had  a  brother  Jerome   Vergil,   a 


1515-18.]  POLYDORE   VERGIL   IN   DISGRACE.  265 

might  be  intercepted.  The  letter  of  Polydore  was  ambiguously 
worded,  j^et  not  so  completely  as  to  veil  its  true  meaning  from 
those  into  whose  hands  it  fell.  It  professed  to  give  a  circum- 
stantial account  of  the  intrigues  set  on  foot  to  deprive  himself 
and  Hadrian  of  the  collectorship.  Ammonius  was  libelled 
under  the  name  of  Harenarius  (sandy) ;  ^  and  De  Giglis,  the 
Bishop  of  Worcester,  who  had  been  implicated  in  the  poison- 
ing of  Cardinal  Bainbridge,  under  the  nick-name  of  talpa 
(mole)  significant  of  his  underhand  proceedings.  He  accused 
the  Pope  of  intriguing  with  the  King,  and  inducing  the  latter 
to  write  a  letter  to  his  Holiness  indicating  his  wish  that 
Hadrian  should  resign ;  though  Polydore  believed  that  the 
King  entertained  no  such  desire.  A  third  person  is  introduced 
under  the  monosyllables  le.  mi.,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  Wolsey  is  intended.  Polydore  says  he  has  offered  le.  vd. 
1001.  annually ; — that  le.  mi.  is  hateful  to  heaven  and  earth  ; 
— that  he  is  so  tyrannical,  his  influence  cannot  last ; — all 
England  abuses  him; — and,  as  if  that  were  not  enough,  "he 
is  now  for  money's  sake  treating  of  peace  with  the  French, 
without  reverence  for  man  or  God."  Polydore  and  Hadrian 
were  imperialists  ;  and  the  presence  of  Suffolk  at  the  court  of 
Francis  I.  gave  an  air  of  probability  to  the  rumour. 

It  will  surprise  no  one  who  knows  the  temper  of  those 
times,  to  learn  that  Polydore  found  himself,  a  few  days  after, 
an  inmate  of  the  Tower,  and  his  deputy  collectorship  irre- 
coverably forfeited.^  He  languished  in  prison  until  the  end 
of  the  year,  though  repeated  applications  in  his  favour  came 
from  the  Pope — instigated  apparently  by  his  fears  of  Hadrian. 
In  his  captivity,  Polydore  addressed  the  most  abject  letters  to 
Wolsey  for  mercy.^  He  told  Wolsey  he  had  heard  with 
rapture  of  his  elevation  to  the  Cardinal's  throne ;  and  when- 
ever Wolsey  would  allow  him  an  opportunity  to  present  him- 
self, he  would  gaze  and  bow  in  adoration,  and  his  spirit 
should  rejoice  in  him  "  as  in  God  my  Saviour."  He  prayed 
that  his  punishment  might  be  wholly  remitted,  and  Wolsey's 
gifts  perfected  in  him,  even  as  he  himself  ivas  jwrfect.  It  will 
surprise  no  one  to  learn,  after  this  letter,  that  Polydore  went 

>  ThewordarenaHus, besides  being  of  Ammonius  Boems  to  be  de  Arena 

Latin    for   Ammoiiins,   mean.s    also    a  (soe  I.  4!)^;}),  wliich   lie   Gnccizod   m 

jirize-fighter,  and  Polydore  might  in-  conformity  with  iho  pedantic  taste  of 

tend  this  play  upon  the  word,  and  I  that  ago. 

tliink     did; — the     prize     for     which  *    11.272. 

Ammonius    was     fighting    being    the  '  H.  070. 
deputy  collectorship.     The  true  name 


266  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [AD. 

home  in  the  spring  of  1516,  and  took  immortal  revenge  when 
he  was  fairly  out  of  the  Cardinal's  reach.  He  sneered  at  the 
Cardinal's  birth,  sneered  at  his  ingratitude,  sneered  at  his 
buildings,  sneered  at  his  administration  of  justice,  sneered  at 
his  cardinal's  hat.  He  painted  Wolsey,  in  his  history,  as 
an  ambitious  priest,^  successful  only  because  he  was  un- 
scrupulous ;  distinguished  mainly  for  his  underhanded 
intrigues  in  banishing  Fox  and  Warham  from  the  council 
table.  He  called  him  a  foolish  architect,  for  building  the 
palace  of  Bridewell  on  the  muddy  banks  of  the  Thames  ;  ^  a 
blusterer  in  chancery,  whose  administration  of  justice  was  a 
shadow  without  reality,  and  doomed  to  vanish  like  a  shadow  ; 
a  vulgar  upstart,  intoxicated  with  dignities  undeserved ;  a 
parvenu  whose  brain  was  turned  by  his  gilded  chair,  the  gold 
fringes  of  his  cushion  and  table-cloth — (to  which,  Polydore 
forgot  to  tell  his  hearers,  he  had  offered  to  bow  down  in 
adoration), — and  his  cardinal's  hat,  which  was  carried  before 
him  like  an  idol,  whenever  he  walked  abroad  to  take  the  air, 
by  some  tall  fellow  in  his  livery,  and  placed  conspicuously  on 
the  altar  in  the  chapel  royal  when  mass  was  sung.  Our  only 
surprise  is,  that  every  historian  in  succession  should  have 
accepted  this  as  a  true  picture,  each  adding  a  little  to  the 
original  caricatm-e  ; — Hall  took  it  from  Vergil,  Foxe  from 
Hall,  Burnet  and  Strype  from  Foxe,  Hume  from  Burnet,  and 
so  on  to  the  end  of  the  series. 

Wolsey  was   raised  to   the  cardinalate,   on   the    10th    of 
September,  1515,  by  the  name  of  St.  Cecilia  trans  Tiberim. 

'  "Divinis  litteris  non  indoctns,"  the  southern  side  was  unoccupied,  and 

is  the  tame  compliment  paid  him  by  the    Surrey  hills    stretched    away  in 

Polydore.     That  is,  he  was  fit  to  read  endless   prospect  of   green  fields  and 

his  mass-book  and  thumb  his  breviary  ;  hawthorns,  and  the  river  was  crowded 

— a  Thomist,  not  a  Ciceronian; — neither  with    painted    barges    flashing   along 

a    scholar    nor    a    gentleman,    but    a  with  watermen  in  bright  liveries  and 

respectable  sort  of  hedge-priest.  the   gayest    of   company.      None  but 

^  Various  sums  are  entered  in  the  the  veriest  tradesmen  and  apprentices 

King's  Book  of  Payments  for  buildings  bearing    their     clogs     and    lanterns, 

at    Blackfriai's,    under    the    snperiu-  dreamed  of  threading  the  fetid  mud 

tendence  of  Thomas  Larke.     In  Aug.,  and  mantling  ditches  of   Loudon ;  or 

1515,  1,000L  ;  in  April,  1516,  1,000/.  ;  exposing  their  fine  clothes  and  persons 

in  Feb.,  1517,  the  same  sum ;  and  the  to    the  filthy   birds  and   gaunt    dogs, 

same  sum  in   June   following.     It  is  more    quarrelsome    than  apprentices, 

almost  needless  to  say  that  Polydore's  that  snarled   and  wrangled   over  the 

sarcasm   must    not    be    accepted    as  garbage  cast  into  the  streets  by  thrifty 

literally  true.     The  north  side  of  the  citizens.       Bi'idewell,     however,    was 

Thames  was  studded  with  palaces  and  never    a   favourite    resort    of    Henry 

noblemen's    seats,  from    Bridewell  to  VIII. ;  and  after  the  trial  of  Katharine, 

Westminster ;  and  there  could  be  no  Polydore's      flurt      at     its     deserted 

more  pleasant  sight  in  the  world  than  chambers  was  probably  well  founded, 
the  prospect  from  these  houses,  when 


1515.]  WOLSEY   MADE   A   CARDINAL.  267 

The  choice  of  the  title  was  a  matter  of  some  difficulty.  The 
Bishop  of  Worcester  wrote  ^  to  say  that  he  could  think  of  no 
other  aiDpellation  than  St.  Cecilia,  "which  was  lucky,  as 
many  popes  had  proceeded  from  it."  Wolsey  always  signed 
himself  T.  Car^'^  Ebor.,  was  generally  so  addressed ;  and  in 
England  not  one  man  in  ten  thousand  was  aware  of  the 
existence  of  any  other  title.  The  first  mention  we  have  of  his 
intended  dignity  occurs  in  a  letter  of  Polydore  Vergil,  from 
Eome,  May  21,  1514,^  some  months  before  the  murder  of 
Cardinal  Bainbridge.  Polydore  had  broken  the  subject  to 
Hadrian,  then  on  good  terms  with  Wolsey,  desiring  him  to 
use  his  interest  with  the  Pope  in  obtaining  the  cardinalate  for 
Wolsey.  Four  months  after,  Henry  himself  wrote  to  the 
Pope,  urging  the  same  request  in  behalf  of  his  great  minister, 
"  whose  merits  were  such  that  the  king  esteemed  him  above 
his  dearest  friends,  and  could  do  nothing  of  the  least  im- 
portance without  him."^  In  his  reply  to  this  letter,  dated 
from  Eome,  24th  of  September,  1514,*  the  Pope  tells  the  King 
that  the  promotion  demanded  by  his  Majesty  for  Wolsey  was 
surrounded  with  difficulties ;  it  was  greatly  desired  as  the 
highest  dignity  in  the  Church  ;  and  he  attempted  to  avoid 
compliance  by  a  sort  of  general  promise  that  he  would  accede 
to  the  King's  wishes  at  a  suitable  opportunity.  From  this 
period  these  negociations  at  Piome  seem  to  have  dropped  from 
the  hands  of  Vergil  and  Hadrian,,  and  been  transferred  to 
Worcester's.  Then  followed  the  death  of  Bainbridge  and  the 
negociations  for  the  marriage  of  Mary  with  Lewis  XH. 
Worcester  was  implicated  in  that  murder,  and  both  out  of 
rivalry  to  Hadrian,  whom  he  hated,  and  to  secure  the  favour 
of  Wolsey  and  the  King,  in  his  distress  he  urged  Wolsey's 
promotion  with  all  the  assiduity  and  skill  of  which  he  was 
master.  As  Lewis  professed  great  friendship,  in  consequence 
of  the  part  taken  by  Wolsey  in  the  French  match,  it  was 
expected  that  he  would  have  employed  his  influence  with  Leo 
in  the  same  direction.  So,  probably,  Hadrian  and  Vergil, 
who  were  imperialists,  intrigued  against  it.  But  Leo  was  in 
no  hurry  to  comply  ;  precipitancy  was  not  one  of  his  failings. 
Dilatory  and  irresolute — fearful  of  giving  ofl'once,  yet  too 
cowardly  to  refuse  outright — he  offered  a  compromise.^  He 
would  not  create  Wolsey  a  cardinal,  but  would  give  him  a 

'  II.  9G7.  *  T.  r>4i5. 

*  I.  5110..  »  1.  51(Jt. 

5  I.  5318. 


268  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

bull  for  bis  promotion  on  condition  be  sbould  not  publicly 
display  tbe  insignia.     Wolsey  wrote  to  Worcester  tbat  tbe 
King  was  as  mucb  interested  as  be  was  in  tbis  promotion, 
and  tbis   appears   to   bave  been  true  :    "  If  by  your  politic 
bandling  tbe  Pope  can  be  induced   sbortly  to   make   me   a 
Cardinal,  ye  sball  singularly  content  and  please  tbe  king  ;  for 
I  cannot  express  bow  desirous  tbe  king  is  to  bave  me  advanced 
to  tbe  said  bonor,  to  tbe  intent  tbat  not  only  men  migbt 
perceive  bow  mucb  tbe  Pope  favoretb  tbe  king  and  sucb  as 
be  entirely  lovetb,  but  also  that  tbereby  I  sball  be  tbe  more 
able  to  do  bis  Grace  service."  ^     Leo  prevaricated : — be  bad 
"  a  particular  regard  for  Wolsey,"  but  could  not  break  bis 
oatb  : — delay  was  necessary ;  bis  promotion  could  not  take 
place  at  present  witbout  causing  tbe  greatest  scandal;^  be 
was  very  sorry,  but  Francis  I.  and  Maximilian  bad  insisted 
on  tbe  creation  of  tbeir  own  Cardinals  first,  and  tbe  Pope 
could  not  venture  to  offend  tbem.     Wolsey  was  indifferent  to 
tbe  promotion,   so  far  as  be  was   personally  concerned — at 
least  so  be  ordered  Worcester  to  tell   tbe  Pope ; — but  "  bis 
sense  of  duty,"  and  desire  to  see  tbe  King  "  a  fast  friend  to 
bis   Holiness,"    compelled   bim   to   urge   it.     Tbe  King  bad 
always  been  a  firm  ally  of  tbe  Pope,  and  bis  wisbes  ougbt  not 
to  be  ligbtly  rejected.^    Tbe  next  letter  conveyed  a  mucb  more 
significant  bint,  and  was  calculated  to  tbrow  tbe  Pope  into  an 
agony.     Francis  was  on  bis  road  to  Milan.     Tbe  eldest  son  of 
tbe  Cburcb  intended  to  lay  bimself  with  bis  battalions    of 
veterans  at  tbe  feet  of  bis  Holy  Fatber.     To  decline  tbe  visit 
was   impossible;    to   prevent   it,  not   feasible.     "Tbe  king's 
grace  marvelletb,"  writes  Wolsey  to  tbe  Bisbop  of  Worcester,* 
"  tbat  tbe  Pope  delay etb  so  long  tbe  sending  of  tbe  red  bat  to 
me,  seeing  bow  tenderly,  instantly,  and  often  bis  grace  bath 
written  to  bis  Holiness  for  the  same."     Tbe  King,  be  adds, 
calls  daily  for  it ;  and  though  he  will  not  distrust  tbe  Pope's 
promise,  tbe  sooner  it  is  fulfilled  the  better  will  be  be  pleased. 
Then  comes  the  significant  hint: — if  the  King  forsake  tbe 
Pope,  "he  will  be  in  greater  danger  on  tbis  day  two  years 
than  ever  was  Pope  Julius." 

This  letter  had  tbe  desired  effect :  Leo  consented,  at  tbe 
instigation  of  Worcester,  to  create  Wolsey  "Cardinal  sole."^ 

1  I.  5465.  from    the    King,    preserved    in    the 

2  11.312,366,374.  Vatican,  has  been  published  by  Martene 
»  II.  648.  in  his  Monumenta,  with  other  letters 

*  II.  763.  of  Wolsey,   strangely    overlooked    by 

*  II.    780.     One   of   these   letters       English  historians.     The   king  urges 


1515.]  WOLSEY   MADE   A   CARDINAL.  269 

At  the  same  time  the  King  consented  to  enter  the  league 
secretly  formed  by  the  Pope,  ostensibly  for  defence  of  the 
Church,  really  for  resisting  the  encroachments  of  France,  on 
condition  of  the  red  hat  being  sent  at  once ; — Wolsey  adds, 
"  no  man  earthly  helping  thereto,"  which  I  see  no  reason  to 
disbelieve.  He  expressed  a  wish  that  the  legatine  authority 
should  be  combined  with  the  cardinalate  as  most  agreeable  to 
the  King;  but  if  the  Pope  proved  refractory  Worcester  was 
to  content  himself  with  obtaining  a  faculty  for  the  Cardinal  to 
visit  the  exempt  monasteries.  That  request  was  not  destined 
to  be  gratified  at  present.  On  the  7th  of  September,^  Worcester 
wrote  to  him  from  Kome  to  say  that  the  Pope  was  highly 
delighted  with  his  letters  from  England,  and  was  now  so  bent 
on  his  promotion  that  he  would  insist  upon  it  in  spite  of  all 
the  Cardinals,  and  complete  it  within  eight  days.  The  election 
took  place  on  the  lOth.^ 

It  was  not  in  any  man's  nature  to  be  insensible  on  such 
an  occasion  ;  certainly  not  in  Wolsey's.  He  loved  the  dignity 
of  the  cardinalate,  partly  no  doubt  for  its  autho^it3^  probably 
as  much  for  its  splendour.  Since  the  days  of  Archbishop 
Morton  no  Cardinal  had  been  seen  in  England,  for  Bainbridge 
lived  abroad  ;  and  Wolsey  was  resolved  to  invest  his  new 
dignity  M'ith  all  that  splendour  and  magnificence  which  no 
man  understood  better  or  appreciated  more  highly  than  he. 
Even  in  that  age  of  gorgeous  ceremonial,  before  Puritan  senti- 
mentalism  had  insisted  on  the  righteousness  of  lawn-sleeves  ; 
— when  the  sense  aches  with  interminable  recitals  of  cloth  of 
gold,  silks,  and  tapestries, — even  then,  amidst  jewelled  mitres 
and  copes,  a  Cardinal  in  his  scarlet  robes  formed  a  conspicuous 
object.  Not  that  Wolsey  was  the  slave  of  a  vulgar  vanity. 
Magnificent  in  all  his  notions  and  all  his  doings, — in  plate, 
dress,  tapestry,  pictures,  buildings,  the  furniture  of  a  chapel 
or  of  a  palace,  the  setting  of  a  ring  or  the  arrangements  for  a 
congress, — there  was  the  same  regal  taste  at  work, — the  same 

Wolsey's    advancement   in   the   most  that,  but  for  this  emphatic  interposition 

emphatic  terms ; — begs  the  Pope  will  of    Henry    VIII.,    it    is    questionable 

pay  the  same  attention   to  whatever  whetlier  he  would  ever  have  given  tlie 

Wolsey  says  as   if   it   had   proceeded  cardinalate  to  Wolaey;  certainly  not 

from    his    own    lips  ; — expresses    his  so  soon  as  he  did.     But  the  jiart  taken 

extreme    anxiety   and   fervent   desire  by  the  King  in  this  affair  was  forgotten, 

for  the  day  when  he  shall  see  Wolsey  ignored,  or  unknown  at  Wolsey's  fall ; 

advanced  to  the  cardinalate;  a  dignity  and  his  accusers,  for  obvious  reasons, 

he    fully    deserved,    for    his    genius,  represented  it  as  the  sole  act  of  Wolsey 

learning,and  many  achnirable  qualities.  himself. 
See  II.  App.  l!i.     So  strong  were  tlie  '   II.  887. 

fears  and  such  the  reluctance  of  Leo,  *  II.  892-893. 


270  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

powerful  grasp  of  little  things  auci  great.  A  soul  as  capacious 
as  tb^  sea,  and  minute  as  the  sands  upon  its  shores,  when 
minuteness  was  required,  he  could  do  nothing  meanly.-^  The 
last  great  builder  this  nation  ever  had,  the  few  remains  which 
have  survived  him  show  the  vastness  of  his  mind  and  the 
universality  of  his  genius.  He  could  build  a  kitchen,  or  plan 
a  college,  or  raise  a  tower,  as  no  man  since  then  has  been  able 
to  build  them.  It  was  the  same  in  music.  There  were  no 
quire  boys  could  sing  like  his.  "My  Lord,"  writes  Pace,  "if 
it  were  not  for  the  personal  love  that  the  king's  Highness  doth 
bear  unto  your  Grace,  surely  he  would  have  out  of  your  chapel 
not  children  only  but  also  men.  For  his  Grace  hath  plainly 
shown  unto  Cornish  (the  King's  choir-master)  that  your 
Grace's  chapel  is  better  than  his ;  for  if  a  new  song  should  be 
brought  unto  both  to  be  sung  ex  improviso,  then  the  said  song 
should  be  better  and  more  surely  handled  by  your  chapel  than 
by  his  Grace's."^  If  Quentin  Matsys  had  a  picture  on  the 
easel  Wolsey  was  ready  to  purchase  it.^  If  there  was  a 
curious  clock  it  was  secured  for  him.^  Various  notices  occur 
in  this  volume  of  his  love  of  tapestry.  "  One  has  to  traverse 
eight  rooms,"  says  Giustinian,  "  before  you  reach  his  audience 
chamber ;  and  they  are  all  hung  with  tapestry,  which  is 
changed  once  a  week."  As  Cardinal,  all  his  gentlemen 
appeared  in  livery  of  crimson  velvet  with  gold  chains,  his 
meaner  officers  in  coats  of  scarlet  bordered  with  black  velvet, 
a  hand  broad.     "  His  own  dress  was  fine  scarlet  or  crimson 

'  The   expenses  of  his   household  this  discrepancy,  except  that  it  be  in 

were  something  over  30,000L  a  year,  this  year  he  gave  Hampton  Court  to 

modern  reckoning ;   but  this  sum  in-  the  liing,    and  with   it   no    doubt  his 

eluded  the  entertainment  of  numeroiis  entire    establishment     there.      It    is 

gentlemen   of   good    family,    a    very  worth    noticing    that    in    the    latter 

considerable  retinue,  and  all  the  ex-  account  Jolin  Cromwell  is  assessed  at 

pensesof  the  Chancery.    In  1516,  they  40s.,  and  a   Robert   Cromwell  at  4d. 

amounted  to  2, 485f.  16.S.  45ii. ;   in  1517,  But  of  Thomas  Cromwell  there  is  no 

to  2,616L  5s.  2f  d. ;   in  1518,  to  2,897?.  notice    until    the    third   roll,   20th    of 

15s.  bid.     See  II.  4623.     His  house-  March,  IS  Hen.  VIII.  (1527),  where 

hold  has  been  variously  estimated ;  at  he  is  assessed  on    his  goods   at   50s. 

180   persons    in    one    manuscript    of  This  points  out  the  date  of  his  entry 

Cavendish,  at  500  in  another,  at  800  in  the  Cardinal's  service. 
in  a  third,  which  of  course,  as  being  ^^  See  also  II.  4044. 

the  most  extravagant,  was  followed  by  ^  j  ti^int  this  must  be  the  artist 

Hume  and  others.     There  is  a  subsidy  to  whom  Spinelly  refers  in  a  letter  to 

roll  in  the  Record  Office  (bundle  204),  Wolsey  (II.  1013),  when  he  sends  him 

drawn  up  by  Thomas  Stanley,  in  which  from  Antwerp  "a  table  (picture)  for 

the   whole   household  is    assessed,   in  an  altar,  which  was  made  by  the  best 

conformity  with  the  act  14  &  15  Hen.  master  of  all  this    land."     I  have  no 

VIII.,  at  429    persons  ;    and  another  doubt  that  many  of  the  pictures  went 

dated  10th  of  January,  16  Hen.  VIII.  into  the  royal  collection  at  the  con- 

(1525),    which    makes   the    total   not  fiscation  of  Wolsey's  property, 
more  than  250.     I  cannot  account  for  *  II.  2332. 


lolo.] 


WOLSEY  MADE   A   CARDINAL. 


271 


satiu,  taffety  or  damask,  and  over  all  a  tippet  of  fine  sable," 
says  Ca;vendisli.^  Some  curious  indications  have  been  pre- 
served of  bis  punctiliousness  in  these  matters.  He  writes  to 
Worcester  :  "  Considering  that  the  Parliament  beginneth  in 
crastino  Animarum  ^  (November  3),  it  shall  be  necessary  that 
I  have  the  habit  and  hat  of  a  Cardinal ;  and  whereas  there  be 
none  here  that  can  make  the  said  habit,  [please]  send  to  me 
two  or  three  hoods  of  such  pattern  and  colour  as  Cardinals  be 
wont  to  wear  there  (at  Rome),  and  also  one  paper  of  caps 
larger  and  shallower  than  those  were  which  your  Lordship 
lately  sent  to  me ;  with  two  great  pieces  of  silk  used  by 
Cardinals  there  for  making  the  kirtles  and  other  like  gar- 
ments." 

But  if  Wolsey  was  delighted  with  his  new  dignity,  the  King 
was  scarcely  less  pleased.  He  wrote  to  the  Pope  to  say — and 
the  letter  is  still  preserved  in  the  Vatican" — "  that  nothing  in 
all  his  life  had  given  him  greater  pleasure  than  the  papal  brief 
announcing  Wolsey 's  election  to  the  College  of  Cardinals ;  he 
regarded  the  distinction,  thus  bestowed  on  a  subject  for  whom 
lie  entertained  the  strongest  affection,  as  a  favour  bestowed 
upon  himself,  so  great  were  Wolsey 's  gifts  and  so  eminent  his 
services."  In  fact,  though  this  has  often  been  overlooked  or 
denied,  no  doubt  can  exist  that  the  King  was  at  the  time  fully 
as  much  interested  in  Wolsey's  advancement  as  .was  Wolsey 
himself. 

Great  preparations  were  now  made  for  his  installation. 
On  the  7th  of  October,  the  Bishop  of  Worcester's  secretary 
was  despatched  to  England  *  with  the  hat  and  a  ring  of  more 
than  usual  value  from  the  Pope,  and  plenary  indulgence  for 
all  those  who  should  take  part  in  the  ceremony,^  He  arrived 
at  Calais  on  the  7th  of  November.^  On  the  15th  he  entered 
London  ;  at  Blackheath  he  was  met  by  the  Earl  of  Essex  and 
the  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  and  at  the  city  gates  by  the  mayor, 
aldermen,  and  the  different  crafts  with  their  banners  lining 


'  Cavendish  knew  Wolsey  only  in 
his  latter  years,  and  the  earlier  part 
of  his  narrative  must  not  bo  too  im- 
plicitly trusted,  lie  describes  Wolsey 
as  he  saw  him.  Scarlet  was  properly 
the  papal  colour  ;  was  permitted  to  be 
worn  by  Legates  de  latere,  but  was  not 
the  unual  colour  of  cardinals,  whose 
•jrdinary  dress  was  an  ami)le  cape  over 
a  violet-coloured  rochet;  sometimes 
scarlet,  bat  not  generally.  See  Liber 
Ciprini.  f.  135. 


"  II.  894.  In  this  document  some 
of  the  wordsare  obscure  and  mutilated. 
See  also  3045. 

3  II.  900. 

*  II.  'J'J4. 

*  It  was  not  usual  to  send  the  hat 
out  of  Rome.  The  ceremonies  observed 
on  tliis  occasion  were  in  exact  cou- 
formity  with  the  Liher  Sacniruni- 
Cmrcnioniurum  put  forth  by  Loo  X.  iu . 
1510. 

"  II.  1117. 


272  THE  EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

the  streets.  At  Westminster  Abbey  the  hat  was  received  by 
the  Abbot  and  eight  others,  and  so  carried  in  state  to  the  high 
altar.^  On  Sunday  the  Cardinal  proceeded  from  his  house  at 
Westminster  to  the  abbey,  where  mass  was  sung  by  Warham, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  assisted  by  Fox,  Euthal,  and  other 
Bishops.  The  sermon  was  preached  by  the  celebrated  Dr. 
Colet,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's.  During  benedictions  and  prayers 
the  Cardinal  lay  grovelling  at  the  foot  of  the  high  altar  ;  then 
the  Archbishop  placed  the  hat  upon  his  head,  and  the  service 
ended  with  Te  Deum.  The  new-made  Cardinal  was  conducted, 
on  his  return,  to  the  western  door  of  the  abbey  by  the 
Dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  thence  to  his  place  at  Charing 
Cross,  followed  by  the  great  nobility,  bannerets,  knights,  and 
gentlemen,  the  Archbishop  and  Bishops  bringing  up  the  rear. 
The  whole  was  concluded  with  a  magnificent  banquet,  graced 
by  the  King,  Queen  Katharine,  and  Queen  Mary,  all  the 
nobility  and  clergy,  the  Barons  of  the  Exchequer,  the  judges 
and  serjeants-at-law. 

To  Polydore  Vergil,  then  languishing  in  the  Tower,  the 
salvos  of  artillery,  the  pealing  of  bells,  the  acclamations  and 
roar  of  the  populace,  thronging  to  the  splendid  pageant,  must 
have  been  far  from  agreeable  sounds.  This  Le.  mi.,  whom 
everybody  hated,  and  whose  downfall  he  had  predicted  as  at 
hand,  had  jiot  fallen ;  was  not  likely  to  fall,  at  present. 
Modern  philosophy  despises  lord  mayors'  coaches  and 
cardinals'  hats;  but  the  philosophy  of  that  age  was  different. 
Men  delighted  in  such  shows  without  stopping  to  reason  about 
them.  Now  and  then  some  Puritan  would  start  up  and 
inveigh  against  the  immorality  of  poleaxes  and  the  profane- 
ness  of  scarlet  cloth,  as  the  livery  "of  the  whore  of  Babylon." 
"  How  think  ye  ?  "  said  Wolsey  to  one  of  this  sect ;  "  were  it 
better  for  me,  being  in  the  honour  and  dignity  that  I  am,  to 
coin  my  pillars  and  poleaxes,  and  give  the  money  to  five  or  six 
beggars  ?  Do  you  not  reckon  the  commonwealth  better  than 
five  or  six  beggars?"  "To  this  I  did  answer,"  says  Dr. 
Barnes,  who  tells  the  story  himself,  "  that  I  reckoned  it  more 
to  the  honour  of  God  and  to  the  salvation  of  his  soul,  and  also 
to  the  comfort  of  his  poor  brethren,  that  they  were  coined  and 
given  in  alms  ;  and  as  for  the  commonwealth,  it  did  not  hang 
on  them,  for,  as  his  Grace  knew,  the  commonwealth  was  afore 
his  Grace,  and  must  be  when  his  Grace  is  gone ;  and  the 
pillars  and  poleaxes  came  with  him,  and  should  also  go  away 

'  II.  1153. 


1515.]  WOLSEY   MADE   A   CARDINAL.  273 

^\^tll  him."  And  if  giving  alms  to  beggars  were  the  final  end 
of  man's  creation,  Dr.  Barnes  said  well.^  But  reasoning  such 
as  this  had  not  yet  grown  popular ;  beggars,  like  housebreakers, 
were  not  objects  of  much  sympathy :  contrariwise,  the  former 
were  whipped,  and  the  others  hanged— often  unmercifully, 
always  unsentimentally.  The  intense  conservative  and  aristo- 
cratical  principle  pervading  all  classes  in  England  in  those 
days  and  strictly  insisting  on  the  due  subordination  of  ranks, 
would  have  repudiated  with  scorn  and  contempt  the  equalizing 
appeal  to  their  common  humanity  from  the  unfortunate  and 
the  vagabond,  and  probably  have  condemned  the  appellant  to 
the  stocks.  The  day  had  not  yet  come,  though  it  was  fast 
approaching,  when  the  fervid  eloquence  of  Puritanism  was  to 
proclaim  the  communistic  doctrines  of  Christianity,  and  repre- 
sent all  men  as  equal  in  that  wisdom  which  alone  was  to  be 
deemed  wisdom, — reading  and  expounding  the  Scripture.  The 
old  sacramental  mysteries  of  the  earlier  ages,  not  to  be  pro- 
faned by  vulgar  eyes  were  destined  to  pass  away.  Impene- 
trable barriers  which  had  hitherto  severed  the  ecclesiastic 
from  the  layman,  the  knight  and  nobleman  from  the  burgess, 
were  doomed  to  fall,  and  the  time  was  not  far  distant  when  a 
beggar  in  grace  ^  should  take  the  wall  of  a  gentleman  without 
it,  and  every  unwashed  artificer  prove  a  match  for  the  bench 
of  bishops.  But  that  time  had  not  yet  come  ;  was  not  to 
come  so  long  as  Wolsey  lived.  Now  and  then  the  rising  spirit 
of  equality  wept  with  Hall  over  the  wrongs  done  to  crimson 
jackets  and  fine  shirts — but  no  more.  "As  soon  as  Wolsey 
was  Chanceller,  he  directed  commissions  into  all  shires  for  to 
put  the  Statute  of  Aj)parel  and  the  Statute  of  Labourers  ^  in 
execution.  And  he  himself  one  day  called  a  gentleman  named 
Simon  Fitz-Pdchard,  and  took  from  him  an  old  jacket  of  crimson 

*  "  T  dare  be  bold  to  warrant  that  a  grudoje  and  call  tlipm  hypocrites  for 

I  can  find   of   those   who   most    may  tlieir  alms,   and  say  that  they  spent 

Bpend,  which  were  they  sure  that  it  upon  naughty  beggars  the  good  that 

should    in  this    matter  do   any    good  was  wont  to  keep  good  yeomen,  and 

would   be    well    content  to  withdraw  that  tliereby  they   both  enfeeble  and 

from    all     their    other     countenance  also  dishonor  the  realm." — Sir  Thomas 

[external  pomp  and  appearance]  the  More's  Apology,  p.  892. 
chief  part  of  their  movables,  and  of  *  The    old    IjoUard     text,    "  that 

their  yearly  livelihood  too,  and  out  of  dominion  is  founded   in  grace,"  ol'ton 

hand  bestow  the  one,  and  with  their  revived,  never  utterly  oxtinguishod. 
own    hand    yearly   bestow   the    other  '  This  is  another  proof,  if  fnrther 

operdy  among  the  poor.     And  I  must  proof    were   needed,   of  what   I    liavo 

again  be  bold  to  warrant  th:it  if  tiicy  stated   before  .-—that   tiio    Statute   of 

did,  even  the  selfsame  folk  that  now  Labourers  was  made  for  the  employer, 

grudge  and  call  them  proud  for  their  not  the  onaployed. 
coantcnance,  would  then  find  as  great 

VOL.    I.  T 


274  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

velvet  and  divers  brooches,  which  extreme  doing  caused  him 
greatly  to  be  hated ;  and  by  his  example  many  cruel  officers 
for  malice  evil  entreated  divers  of  the  King's  subjects,  inas- 
much that  one  Shynnynge,  mayor  of  Rochester,  set  a  young 
man  on  the  pillory  for  wearing  of  a  riven  shirt."  ^ 

I  have  stated  that  Wolsey  was  anxious  to  obtain  the 
legatine  authority,^  and  requested  Worcester  to  urge  his  suit. 
But  the  Pope  demurred.  He  had  given  enough  ;  he  had  no 
inclination  to  bestow  more.  As  Archbishop  of  York,  Wolsey 
was  but  legatus  natiis,  an  emi)ty  title ;  as  legate  de  latere,  he 
would  be  enabled  to  take  ecclesiastical  precedence,  and  use 
the  insignia  of  his  ecclesiastical  authority  in  both  provinces. 
But  what  the  Pope  would  not  grant  spontaneously  was  wrested 
from  him  by  the  force  of  circumstances.  He  had  long  been 
anxious  to  set  on  foot  an  expedition  against  the  Turks ; — as 
early  as  the  summer  of  1515  he  had  used  all  his  influence 
wdth  Wolsey  and  Warham  to  levy  a  10th  or  at  least  a '  20th 
from  the  clergy  of  England  for  that  purpose.  The  case  was 
apparently  urgent.  The  Turks  had  possessed  themselves  of 
Syria  and  Egypt ;  they  were  daily  threatening  Ehodes,  and 
the  Knights  of  the  island  had  called  home  all  members  of 
their  order,  and  were  making  great  exertions  to  prepare  for 
the  impending  struggle.^  Turkish  corsairs  swarmed  in  the 
Mediterranean,  and  swept  the  coast  from  Terracina  to  Pisa.* 
On  one  occasion  they  plundered  the  church  of  Loretto ;  on 
another  they  sailed  up  the  Tiber,  and  nearly  made  a  prisoner 
of  the  Pope  whilst  he  was  hunting  at  Pali.^  Hungary  was  on 
the  verge  of  dissolution,  whilst  its  nobles,  with  suicidal  folly, 
quarrelled  and  fought  among  themselves.  On  the  death  of 
Ladislaus  VI.  the  confusion  increased.  Without  immediate 
aid,  as  the  Bishop  of  Vesprim  wrote  to  the  Pope,^  the  kingdom 
must  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Turks.  The  young  King  of 
Hungary,  only  twelve  years  of  age,  was  utterly  incompetent  to 
cope  with  the  dangers  of  his  position.'     But  Christendom  had 

'  Hall's  Chronicle,  p.  583.  to  the  king  of   Hungary,  is  but  ten 

2  II.  968.  years  of  age  ;  howbeit  of  stature  and 

'  See  the  letters  of  the  Master  of  bigness  he  might  well  be  twelve ;  and 

Ehodes  in  the  Calendar,  Vol.  II.,  under  is  brown  of  nature.     The  young  queen 

the  name  oi  Fabricius  de  Careto.    They  [Ann]  his  sister  is  but  twelve  years  ; 

are  extremely  interesting,  and  have  nevertheless  of  growing  she  seemeth 

never  been  used.  to  be  fourteen,  and  of  beauty  is  the 

■*  11.  1874.  fairest    I    have    seen,    and    hath    the 

*  II.  2017.  fairest    hair."— (Wingfield    to    Henry 

«  II.  1709.  VIII.,  July  31,  1515.)     This  was  the 

'  "The   young    king   of   Bohemia  beautiful    princess    Ann,    married    to 

[who  afterwards  fell  at  Mohatz],  son  Ferdinand   Archduke   of    Austria    iu 


1515-18.] 


THE   PROPOSED   CRUSADE. 


275 


so  often  been  alarmed  with  the  cry  of  "  The  Turk  is  coming," 
that  when  the  Turk  came  at  last  no  one  believed  it.  So  the 
English  clergy  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  voice  of  the  Papal 
charmers,  and  refused  a  disme  and  even  half  a  disme.^  They 
declared  they  would  not  open  a  window  to  so  perilous  an 
example  as  the  Pope  required,  lest  when  they  wished  to  shut 
it  they  should  not  be  able.  Already  they  had  paid  six-tenths 
to  defend  the  patrimony  of  St.  Peter,  and  no  real  danger  was 
to  be  apprehended.  Leo  was  bitterly  disappointed  ;  not  with- 
out reason.  He  had  reckoned  on  Wolsey's  gratitude  and 
influence  in  carrying  this  measure  as  a  reward  for  the 
cardinalate.      Wolsey  had   readily  promised   his   aid ;  ^  but 


1516.  In'  another  letter  annonncing 
the  espousals  (August  9, 1516),  Wing- 
field  says,  "  I  pray  God  send  them  joy 
and  long  life  for  that  the  one  is  as 
near  akin  to  my  lady  Princess  your 
daughter  (Mary),  as  goodly  may  be, 
and  that  the  other  by  her  mother's 
side  is  of  your  subject's  blood,  lineally 
descended  from  the  head  house  of  the 
Wingfields,  and  verily  to  this  day  I  do 
esteem  her  to  be  one  of  the  fairest 
ladies  on  live." 

Pace  tells  a  cui'ious  story  about 
this  yoimg  lady :  "  We  have  here 
knowledge  for  certainty  that  the 
Emperor  would  marry  the  French 
King's  mother  (Louise  of  Savoy),  but 
she  will  none  of  him,  fearing  a  divorce 
post  solutam  pecuniam.  And  the  late 
king  of  Hungary's  daughter,  whom  the 
Emperor  some  years  past  was  bound 
to  marry  to  the  king  of  Castile,  intra 
annum  (see  II.  746),  or  take  her  him- 
self, hearing  of  this  treaty  of  marriage 
with  the  French  king's  mother,  is  come 
desperately  sick,  and  saith  openly  the 
Emperor  shall  be  her  husband  and  she 
will  none  other.  Also  there  be  come 
other  divers  lords  of  Hungary  with  a 
great  complaint  of  the  Emperor  that 
he  hath  received  and  expended  a  very 
great  part  of  the  money  of  the  dowry 
of  the  king  of  Hungary's  daughter." 
(II.  3090.)  The  young  hidy  could  not 
ije  more  than  14;  the  Emperor  was 
59.  This  would  be  wholly  incredible, 
did  it  not  appear  from  a  letter  of  the 
Imperial  Chancellor  to  Wol.sey  (July 
10,  1517)  that  tlie  Emperor  was  tlien 
at  Augsburg  on  his  way  to  Inspruck, 
where  ho  was  to  marry  tlie  daughter 
of  the  King  of  Hungary  (3456).  It 
is  stated  by  Pahna,  Notitia  lierum 
Htmga/ricarum,    that    .JoIjh    Zai)olya, 


waiwode  of  Transylvania,  had  deter- 
mined to  possess  himself  by  force  of 
the  person  of  this  Princess  ;  where- 
upon, at  the  instance  of  Thomas 
Bakatz,  Cardinal  of  Strigonium,  who 
is  frequently  mentioned  in  these 
pages,  a  double  marriage  was  deter- 
mined on  by  the  Emperor  Maximilian 
and  the  King  of  Hungary.  Lewis 
was  to  take  Mary  the  Emperor's  grand- 
daughter (afterwards  the  celebrated 
Mary  of  Hungary)  ;  and  the  Princess 
Ann,  either  Charles  or  Ferdinand.  On 
the  22nd  of  July,  1515,  both  betrothals 
took  place  in  the  church  of  St.  Stephen 
at  Poseu  ;  Maximilian  acting  as  proxy 
for  Ferdinand,  who  was  then  in  Spain, 
with  this  condition — that  if  Ferdinand 
refused  the  lady,  the  espousal  should 
be  valid  as  between  Maximilian  and 
the  Princess!  (Palma,  ii.  518.)  Of 
the  cei'emonies  on  the  occasion  Wing- 
field  gives  a  wonderfully  graphic 
account  (II.  746).  Notwithstanding 
the  extraordinary  disparity  of  years, 
the  young  lady  seems  to  have  been 
perfectly  willing  to  accept  tliis 
arrangement.  "  The  Emperor  then 
gave  her  a  rich  crown,  and  set  it  upon 
her  head,  saying,  I  give  this  crown 
unto  you  in  token  that  here  before 
these  witnesses  I  promise  to  do  my 
best  to  make  you  queen  of  Castil(!, 
and,  if  that  fail,  to  make  you  queen 
of  Naples.  And,  furthermore,  if  that 
I  shall  fortune  to  fail  of  both  those,  I 
y)romise  you  by  word  of  an  Emperor 
that,  an  God  stind  mo  life,  I  sliall  not 
fail  to  make  you  qui;en  of  tlio  Romans 
and  lady  of  Austria,  wliicli  may  bo 
valued  to  a  royaumo  " — i.e.  to  marry 
her  himself. 
'   II.  1312. 

Ml.  y67-s. 


276  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

Warbam,  less  courtly,  had  candidly  told  the  Pope  from  the 
first  that  he  could  hold  out  no  hopes  of  any  such  grant  from 
Convocation.^  So  long  as  the  thoughts  of  princes  were 
entirely  engrossed  with  a  European  war,  it  was  useless  to 
urge  upon  them  the  obligations  of  unity  and  the  duty  of 
repelling  the  common  enemy ;  and  to  that  indifference  England 
mainly  contributed.  At  the  meeting  of  Francis  and  the  Pope 
at  Bologna  in  December,  1515,^  the  former  had  consented  to 
lay  aside  all  other  considerations  and  devote  himself  to  the 
cause.  The  Pope  thanked  him,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  as  he 
told  Henry,  and  begged  the  King  to  forget  his  animosity  and 
listen  to  the  prayers  of  those  who  were  daily  in  danger  from  the 
Turk.^  But  Henry  did  not  believe  his  Holiness.  He  thought 
it  was  only  a  delusion  intended  to  throw  him  off  his  guard. 
So  the  expedition  made  no  real  progress,*  though  it  was  the 
constant  theme  of  state  papers,  and  Europe  was  scandalized 
accordingly.^  When  hostilities  between  the  great  European 
powers  had  been  extinguished  by  the  treaty  of  Noyon  in  the 
spring  of  1517,  the  Pope  thought  the  opportunity  so  long 
desired  had  arrived.  After  a  solemn  mass,  the  crusade  was 
determined  on  in  the  Council  of  the  Lateran  on  the  16th  of 
March,  and  the  bull  drawn  up.^  Various  plans  were  in 
agitation.  It  was  resolved  that  an  army  should  be  raised,  in 
the  first  instance,  of  60,000  men,  to  be  paid  by  a  tenth  levied 
upon  all  the  estates  of  Christendom.'  Every  50th  person  was 
to  turn  soldier,  and  the  other  49  were  to  contribute  to  his 
support  and  wages ;  all  spiritual  persons  to  pay  a  tenth,  all 
seculars  a  twentieth.  The  army  thus  raised  was  to  be  placed 
under  one  captain-general,  to  be  assisted  by  a  Papal  legate, 
and  if  any  one  refused  their  summons  to  join  he  should  be 
accounted  as  a  rebel  and  punished  accordingly.  The  care  of 
the  north-east  was  delegated  to  France,  of  the  north-west  to 
England,  of  the  south-west  to  the  Pope.  To  keep  the  Turk 
employed  it  was  proposed  that  the  Sophi  of  Persia  should  be 
encouraged  to  make  war  upon  him,  and  be  persuaded,  if  pos- 
sible, to  embrace  the  Christian  faith.  To  counterbalance  any 
aid  that  might  be  sent  to  the  Infidels  from  Egypt  or  else- 

^  II.  966.  far  as  to  hint  that  the  King  might,  in 

^  II.  1282.  anticipation  of  the  grant,  advance  the 

^  See  the  remarkable  acconnt   of  money  from  his  own  treasury.    11.887. 

this  celebrated  meeting,  II.  1281,  sq.  ^  11.  2761,  3119,  3163. 

*  Yet  Leo  evidently  flattered  him-  "  II.  3040. 

self  with  success.    The  King  had  given  '  II.  3815-6. 

his  consent,  and  his  Holiness  went  so 


1515-18.]  THE   PROPOSED   CRUSADE.  277 

where,  communications  ■were  to  be  opened,  by  means  of 
Christian  subjects  dweUing  in  the  East,  with  Prester  John 
of  the  Indies,  the  King  of  Nubia  and  Ethiopia,  and  the  King 
of  the  Georgians.  So  whilst  the  Soldan  was  thus  employed 
on  the  side"  of  Arabia  and  Ethiopia,  it  was  hoped  that  Syria 
and  Palestine  might  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Christians  ; 
and  they  could  easily  hold  the  latter  by  building  fortresses  at 
Joi)pa,  Petra,  Dan,  and  Beersheba  on  the  south,  and  placing 
a  garrison  in  Mount  Sion.  In  the  summer  of  1518  an  army 
was  to  be  sent  into  Africa  to  encourage  the  Kings  of  Tremesin, 
Fez,  and  Morocco,  and  the  Arabs  in  the  Libyan  mountains, 
who  had  not  yet  submitted  to  the  Turk.  The  powers  of 
Hungary  and  Poland,  joined  with  the  Scythians  and  Tartars, 
were  appointed  to  occupy  the  northern  settlements.  Next 
year  the  campaign  was  to  be  followed  up  in  Africa.  Maximilian 
and  the  King  of  Portugal  were  to  throw  themselves  on  Cairo 
and  Alexandria,  to  be  joined  by  the  Kings  of  England  and 
Denmark  and  the  Great  Master  of  Prussia,  whilst  the  King  of 
France  marched  through  Dalmatia  and  Croatia,  and  seized 
upon  Bosnia;  then  turning  theii'  armies  south-east  they 
might  take  possession  of  Philippopolis  and  Adrianople,  and 
garrisoning  them  with  Tartar  troops,  who  could  easily  support 
themselves  by  plundering  the  neighbourhood,  direct  their 
attention  to  Chalcedon  and  Negropont,  or  some  equally 
advantageous  seaport. 

When  Africa  had  thus  been  emancipated,  the  Emperor 
and  the  King  of  Portugal  were  to  cross  the  year  after  into 
Greece,  take  Constantinople,  invade  Asia  Minor,  give  half 
Natolia  to  the  Sophi,  and  retain  the  rest  of  Asia  and  Africa, 
especially  Palestine  and  Jerusalem,  exclusively  for  the  Chris- 
tians. After  these  successes  it  might  be  feasible  to  carry 
(Jhristianity  into  Persia  and  Africa : — as  for  the  Turks,  thoy 
were  to  disappear  altogether.  All  these  wondrous  results 
might  be  obtained  in  two  or  three  years,  at  the  cost  of 
12,000,000  of  ducats.  A  paltry  sum  for  a  universal  millennium  ! 
To  give  practical  efficiency  to  this  grand  vision  it  was 
needful  that  Leo  should  send  Legates  to  all  the  leading 
Sovereigns  of  Christendom.  Cardinal  St.  Giles  (yEgidius  of 
Viterbo)  was  despatched  to  Spain,  Cardinal  Flisco  to  Germany, 
Bibiena  (S.  Maria  in  Porticu)  to  France,  and  Campeggio  was 
destined  for  England.  In  France  the  Legate  was  received  in 
a  great  hall  erected  for  the  purpose.^     Francis  enlarged  upon 

»  Dec.  6,  1517.     II.  3823.  3830. 


278  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

his  ardent  desire  to  join  in  this  holy  expedition.  As  eldest 
son  of  the  Church  he  offered  to  serve  in  person,  and  put  him- 
self and  his  kingdom  entirely  at  the  disposal  of  the  Pope. 
But  all  were  not  equally  enthusiastic ;  there  wanted  not  some 
who  still  regarded  the  crusade  as  an  attempt  to  raise  money ; 
— as  a  ridiculous  chimera.^  Erasmus  in  his  scoffing  humour 
writes  to  More,  and  turns  into  jest  the  grave  devices  employed 
to  give  an  air  of  solemnity  to  the  design,  in  which  no  one,  he 
asserts,  had  any  real  faith.  "  The  Pope  has  put  out  a  pro- 
hibition that  wives,  in  the  absence  of  their  husbands  at  the 
war,  shall  not  indulge  themselves  ;  they  are  to  abstain  from 
fine  dresses  and  silks,  from  gold  and  jewels  ;  use  no  paint, 
drink  no  wine,  and  fast  every  other  day."  "  But  as  for  your 
wife,"  he  continues  in  his  bantering  style,  "  she  is  so  serious 
and  devout,  she  will  find  no  difliculty  in  complying  with 
the  Pope's  injunctions."  When  the  King  heard  of  it,  and 
Maximilian's  offer  to  act  as  generalissimo,  "  his  Grace  did 
right  well  laugh,"  says  Pace  in  a  letter  to  Wolsey,^  "  at  the 
device  of  the  Emperor  enempst  the  expedition  to  be  made  the 
first  year  against  the  Turk,  by  him,  with  other  men's  money, 
considering  that  this  should  be  only  an  expedition  of  money." 
When  Pace  showed  his  Majesty  the  letters  in  which  Cam- 
peggio's  mission  was  mentioned,  the  King  at  once  remarked 
that  "  it  was  not  the  rule  of  this  realm  to  admit  Legates  de 
latere.'"  But  he  did  not  insist  on  the  prohibition;  for  a  fort- 
night after  Wolsey  wrote  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester  ^  that  he 
regretted  much  to  hear  of  the  increasing  power  of  the  Turk, 
which  could  not  be  repressed  except  by  a  union  of  Christian 
princes.  He  had  informed  the  King  of  the  Pope's  intention 
to  send  a  Legate  into  England ;  but  by  the  municipal  law  of 
England,  whicli  the  King  was  strictly  bound  to  observe,  no 
foreign  Cardinal  could  be  admitted  to  exercise  legatine 
authority  within  this  realm.  The  King,  however,  would  waive 
that  objection,  provided  that  all  those  faculties  which  were 
usually  conceded  to  legates  de  jure  be  suspended,  and  Wolsey 
joined  in  equal  authority  with  Campeggio.  The  Pope  had  no 
alternative  except  to  comply,  and  the  commission  was  sent  to 
Wolsey  as  desired.*  But  this  was  not  the  end  of  the  humilia- 
tion to  which  the  Pope  and  his  Legate  were  to  be  subjected. 
Cardinal  Hadrian,  the  patron  of  Polydore  Vergil,  had  sig- 
nalized himself  by  his  opposition  to  Wolsey  on  all  occasions. 

»  II.  3991-2.  »  April  11,  1518.  II.  4073. 

2  II.  4023.  *  May  17.  II.  4170. 


1518.]  CAEDINAL   CAMPEGGIO.  279 

He  was  now  in  clisfrrace  : — bad  fled  to  Venice :  was  movinf^ 
heaven  and  earth  to  be  pardoned  and  restored.  Maximiban 
and  the  Venetians  had  incurred  Wolsey's  displeasure  for  inter- 
posing in  bis  favour.  The  Pope  vacillated,  was  inclined  to 
relent,  and  delayed  passing  sentence  of  deprivation.  Wolsey 
urged,  and  even  threatened ;  and  Leo  replied  with  a  variety 
of  excuses.  On  Hadrian's  disgrace,  the  bishopric  of  Bath 
and  Wells  bad  been  conferred  upon  Wolsey ;  ^  but  the  Pope, 
by  declining  to  degrade  Hadrian,  might  keep  the  right  of  that 
see  an  open  question,  and  involve  its  new  possessor  in  endless 
litigation  and  expense. 

Campeggio  reached  Calais  in  June,  in  the  full  bloom  of  bis 
legatine  authority,  intending  at  once  to  cross  to  England.  If 
he  thought  to  snuff  out  the  pretensions  of  bis  English 
associate,  who  had  never  been  at  Kome,  knew  nothing  of 
legates  or  legatine  usages — had  not  a  hat  or  a  cope  fit  for  a 
procession, — that  was  no  more  than  any  native  Italian  would 
have  felt  towards  a  tramontane  ecclesiastic,  whatever  his 
dignity  or  pretensions.  On  reaching  Calais  he  found  a  letter 
waiting  for  him  from  England,  stating  that  the  King  was 
greatly  displeased  with  the  backwardness  of  the  Pope  in 
depriving  Cardinal  Hadrian,  and  the  Legate  must  remain  at 
Calais  until  the  King  had  perfect  satisfaction  on  that  head.^ 
In  vain  Campeggio  protested  that  he  had  written  three  times 
to  the  Pope  on  the  subject,  and  felt  no  doubt  of  bis  com- 
pliance. May  passed,  June  passed,  and  it  was  not  until  the 
22nd  of  July  that  his  quarantine  was  withdrawn,  and  he  was 
permitted  to  land  on  English  shores.  Now,  however  pleasant 
Calais  might  be  for  a  summer  holiday  in  the  v/arm  months  of 
May,  June,  and  July,  and  however  courtly  the  attentions  of 
its  deputy,  Sir  Pdcliard  Wingfield,  it  is  hard  to  conceive  any 
delay  more  galling  or  annoying  to  the  dignity  of  a  papal 
Legate  like  Campeggio,  than  this  cooling  his  heels,  like  an 
ordinary  layman,  for  many  weeks  in  a  rude  garrison  town ; — 
with  the  mortifying  consciousness,  besides,  that  his  detention 
depended  entirely  on  the  will  of  the  man  whom  he  liad 
purposed  to  eclipse.  Hall  tells  a  story,  greedily  repeated  by 
Foxe,  that  the  night  before  Campeggio  entered  London, 
Wolsey,  to  give  greater  effect  to  the  solemnity,  sent  him 
twelve  mules  with  empty  coffers  trapped  with  scarlet ;  and 
thus  the  cavalcade,  with  eight  others  belonging  to  the  Legate, 
passed  through  the  streets  as  if  they  bad  carried  so  much 

'  11.3504,3544.  *  11.4271. 


280  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

treasure.     In  Cheapside  one  of  the  mules  turned  restive,  and 
upset  the  chests,  out  of  which  tumbled  old  hose,  broken  shoes, 
bread,  meat,  and  eggs,  with  "much  vile  baggage;  "  at  which 
the  boys  exclaimed,  "  See,  see  my  lord  Legate's  treasure  !  " 
The  story  is  more  malicious  than  probable.     There  might  be 
much  vile  baggage  and  broken  shoes,  however ;  for  the  fresh- 
ness and  splendour   of  the  Legate's  preparations  would  be 
tarnished  and  injured  by  his  long  detention.     Accustomed  to 
be  received  with  profuse  gratitude  and  unbounded  liberality 
by  the  Sovereigns  to  whom  they  were  sent,  these  dignitaries 
were  not  prepared  for  any  heavy  outlay  from  their  own  purses. 
The  delay  and  consequent  expense  proved  a  serious  annoyance. 
News,  however,  came  at  last  of  Hadrian's  deprivation,  and 
a  knight  of  the  Garter  was  sent  to  bring  over  the  Legate.^   On 
the  23rd  of  July  he  landed  at  Deal,  and  was    met  by  the 
Bishop  of  Chichester,  the  Lords  Abergavenny,  Cobham,  and 
others,  and  conveyed  by  them  to   Sandwich.     Next  day  he 
reached  Canterbury.     Here  he  was  received  by  the  clergy  and 
corporation  of  the  town,  and  conducted  to  the  cathedral  gates, 
where  the  Archbishop,  the  Bishop  of  Eochester,  the  Abbots  of 
St.  Augustine  and  Faversham,  the  Priors  of  Christchurch  and 
St.  Gregory's,  attended  his  coming  in  full  pontificals.     After 
prayers   and   benediction   he   was   led  to   the  shrine  of   St. 
Thomas;  was  censed  and  sprinkled  with  holy  water;  then 
conducted  to  his  lodgings  in  St.  Augustine's  Abbey.     Here  he 
stayed  the  Sunday.     On  Monday  he  set  out  for  Sittingbourne 
in  a  great  storm  of  thunder  and  lightning,  attended   by  a 
cavalcade  of  500  horse.     There  he  dined,   and  supped  and 
slept   at   Bexley.      On    Tuesday  he    was    entertained    at    a 
magnificent  dinner  at  Eochester ;  thence  to  Otford,  attended 
all  the  way  by  the  Archbishop,  with  a  thousand  horsemen,  in 
armour  and  gold  chains.     On  Thursday,  at  Lewisham  ;  and 
after  dinner,  about  one  o'clock,  he  arrived  at  Blackheath.     At 
this  place  a  more  splendid  company  awaited  him,  consisting 
of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  the  Bishops  of  Durham  and  Ely,  the 
Earl   of  Surrey,  the  Lords  Darcy  and  Abergavenny.     In  a 
meadow  "two  miles  from  London,"  a  tent  of  cloth  of  gold  had 
been   erected   for   his   reception.      The   procession   was   now 
arranged.     The   nobility  rode   in   advance ;    then   came   the 
Legate  in  full  pontificals,   with  his   cross,  his   pillars,   and 
pole-axes ;  next  his  servants  in  red  livery ;    after  them  the 
Archbishop's  (Wolsey's  ?)  in  one  livery,  with  red  hats,  except 

'  II.  4348. 


1518.]  CAMPEGGIO'S  RECEPTION.  281 

the  chaplains,  to  the  number  of  200  horse.  As  it  neared  the 
city  gates  the  whole  procession  extended  uj^wards  of  two 
miles.  From  St.  George's  Church  to  London  Bridge  the  way 
was  lined  on  both  sides  by  friars,  monks,  and  clergy  singing 
hymns,  dressed  in  their  habits,  with  copes  of  cloth  of  gold, 
gold  and  silver  crosses  and  banners ;  and  as  the  Legate  passed 
along  they  threw  uj)  clouds  of  incense  in  the  air,  and  sprinkled 
him  with  holy  water.  At  the  foot  of  the  bridge  he  was 
received  by  two  Bishops,  who  presented  him  with  the  relics  of 
the  saints  to  kiss,  whilst  salvos  of  artillery  from  the  Tower 
and  the  river  forts  rent  the  air,^  and  hundreds  of  bells  pealed 
from  every  abbey,  priory,  and  parish  church,  to  the  deeper 
bass  of  old  St.  Paul's.  In  "Gracious  Street"  the  London 
city  companies  joined  the  procession ;  at  Cheapside  he  was 
welcomed  by  the  mayor  and  aldermen ;  and  here  the  celebrated 
Sii'  Thomas  More  delivered  a  Latin  oration.  At  St.  Paul's 
the  Bishops  of  Lincoln  and  London,  with  the  whole  cathedral 
clergy,  received  him,  and  led  him  after  another  oration  to  the 
high  altar.  This  done,  the  Legate  mounted  his  mule,  and 
was  conveyed  to  his  lodgings  in  Bath  Place. 

The  reception  was  magnificent  beyond  description  ;  there 
had  been  nothing  like  it  seen  in  England,  at  least  within  the 
memory  of  living  man.  It  had  been  prepared  and  arranged, 
and  the  whole  expense  of  it  was  defrayed,  by  Wolsey.^  But 
there  was  one  face  wanting  to  complete  the  magnificence  of 
the  ceremony :  that  was  his  own.  Archbishops  and  dukes 
and  all  the  great  nobility  were  there  ;  but  Wolsey  and  the 
King  were  absent.  Sebastian  said  they  were  afraid  of  the 
sweating  sickness.^ 

Campeggio's  audience  took  place  five  days  after  at  Green- 
wich,  on   Tuesday  the  3rd  of  August.*     The  King  entered, 

'  "  Salvoes  of  artillery  rent  the  air  York  went  on   the  right   hand ;  and 

as  if  the  very  heavens  v?onld  fall,"  is  then  the  king,  royally  apparelled  and 

Wolsey's  own    expressive   description  accompanied,  met  them  even  as  though 

addressed  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester.  botli    had    come   from  Rouio,  and  uo 

II.  4348.  brought  them  both  up  into  his  chamber 

2  II.  4348.  of  presence  [a  mistake].     And  there 

'  II.  4361.  was    a    solemn    oration    made    by   an 

*  "  On    Sunday     [a    blunder     for  Italian,    declaring    the    cause    of    the 

Tuesday]     these    two     Cardinals     or  lisgacy  to  bo  in  two  articles,  one  for 

Legates  took  their   barges  and  came  aid    against    God's    enemies,   and   the 

to    Greenwich.     Each    of    them    had  second  for  reformation  of  the  clergy 

besides   their  crosses,   two   pillars   of  [the  latter  is  Hall's  invention].     And 

silver,  two    little   axes    gilt,  and  two  when  mass  was  done  [another  inven- 

cloak  bags   embroidered    [wliat  were  tion],  they   wore  had   to  a   chamber, 

these  ?],  and  the  Cardinals'  hats  borne  and  served  with  lords  and  knights  [a 

before  them.     Ami   when    they   came  mistake]  with  much   solemnity  ;    and 

to    the   king's    hall,    the    Cardinal    of  after  dinner,  they  took  their  leave  of 


282  THE  REIGN   OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

attended  by  the  lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  and  advanced  to 
the  middle  of  the  hall.  The  Legates  "  saluted  him  with  great 
marks  of  respect."^  The  King  returned  their  salutations  by 
taking  off  his  bonnet,  and  then  proceeded  towards  the  upper 
end  of  the  hall,  with  Wolsey  as  the  chief  Legate  on  his  right, 
and  Campeggio  on  the  left ;  their  pillars,  crosses,  and  hats 
borne  before  them.  The  Earl  of  Surrey  carried  the  sword, 
walking  between  the  Legates.  On  the  right  of  the  throne 
stood  the  two  primates  and  the  bishops ;  on  the  left,  the 
dukes  and  lords.  Fronting  the  throne,  and  a  little  to  the 
right,  were  placed  two  chairs  covered  with  cloth  of  gold  ;  in 
the  larger  chair  sate  Wolsey,  and  a  little  behind  him  Cam- 
peggio.^ Then  Wolsey  rising,  cap  in  hand,  delivered  a  Latin 
oration,  the  King  standing  whilst  it  was  delivered.  "  To  this 
his  Majesty  replied,  also  in  Latin,  most  elegantly  and  with  all 
gravity."  This  done,  they  seated  themselves,  and  the  Legate's 
brother  commenced  his  oration,  dilating  on  the  objects  of  this 
solemn  mission, — the  desire  of  the  Pope  for  peace  and  unity 
in  Christendom, — the  importance  of  a  crusade  against  its 
common  enemy  the  Turk.  He  was  answered  by  Dr.  Taylor 
on  the  King's  behalf,  stating  that  his  Majesty  needed  not  to 
be  reminded  of  his  duty  as  a  Christian.  Then  the  King  and 
the  Legates  retired  to  a  private  chamber.  Campeggio's 
importance  expired  with  this  delivery  of  his  mission.  He  was 
invited  to  the  usual  court  entertainments,  was  present  at  the 
solemnity  of  Mary's  espousals  with  the  Dauphin;  but,  says 
Sebastian,  "little  respect  was  shown  to  the  see  Apostolic."^ 
A  remark  which  requires  no  comment. 

So  the  wheel  had  revolved  once  more,  and  all  things  had 
apparently  returned  to  the  point  from  which  they  had  started. 
England  and  France  were  again  intimately  allied,  and  the 
alliance  cemented  by  marriage :  Charles  and  Maximilian 
remained  subordinate  in  the  great  European  confederacy,  as 
they  had  been  four  years  before.  As  then,  so  now,  Wolsey 
stood  master  of  the  game,  but  with  far  higher  advantages. 
Then  he  was  only  Archbishop  of  York ;  now  he  was  Legate, 
Cardinal,  and  Lord-Chancellor.  Then  he  was  only  rising  into 
favour  with  his  Sovereign  ;  now  that  favour  was  confirmed ; — 
his  supremacy  was  contested  then  by  others  not  less  powerful 
than  himself ;  now,  even  his  enemies  admitted  his  superiority, 

the  ting,  and  came  to  London,  and  '  II.  4362,  4366. 

rode  through  the  city  together  in  great  ^  See  the  plate  opposite, 

pomp  and  glory  to  their  lodgings." —  '  II.  4371. 
EaU's  Chron.,  p.  593. 


1518.] 


THE   TWO  LEGATES. 


283 


The  King's 

Chamberlain. 

Vice-chambeiiain. 


A  Chief  Legate. 
A  Legate. 


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284  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D.  1518. 

and,  if  they  did  not  crouch  to  it,  dared  not  contest  it.  Then 
his  influence  was  Httle  felt  or  acknowledged  beyond  his  own 
country;  now  kings  and  emperors  sought  his  favour.  It 
rested  with  him  to  determine  whether  Europe  should  have 
peace  or  war ;  whether  a  crusade  should  be  or  should  not  be ; 
who  should  dictate  to  the  titular  Pope,  whether  a  Frenchman, 
a  German,  or  a  Fleming ;  and  who  should  overshadow  the 
papal  tiara.  And  all  this  he  had  accomplished  without 
moving  from  his  chair,  without  a  blow,  with  a  peace  ex- 
penditure, and  a  rigid  economy.  There  had  never  been  such 
a  minister  in  England.  Francis  and  Charles  were  now  strain- 
ing every  nerve  for  the  Imperial  crown  : — bribes,  favours, 
alliances,  were  showered  by  both;  the  most  unblushing 
venality  found  as  unblushing  and  prodigal  a  purchaser.  The 
holy  Eoman  Empire,  Hke  a  rare  bauble — and  no  better  than  a 
bauble — was  set  up  to  the  highest  bidder.  It  remained  with 
Wolsey  to  decide  to  which  of  the  two  parties  it  should  be 
knocked  down. 


(     285     ) 


CHAPTER  X. 

TWO   BOOKS   OF   THE   PERIOD. 

Our  review  of  this  period  would  be  incomplete  without  some 
notice  of  the  two  important  works  which  then  made  their 
appearance.  I  refer  to  the  Greek  Testament  of  Erasmus,  and 
the  Utopia  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  Though  printed  at  Basle, 
the  Greek  Testament  of  Erasmus  was  strictly  the  work  of  his 
residence  in  England.  In  the  collation  and  examination  of 
manuscripts  required  for  the  task,  he  had  the  assistance  of  Eng- 
lishmen ;  Englishmen  supplied  the  funds,  and  English  friends 
and  patrons  lent  him  that  support  and  encouragement  without 
which  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  Erasmus  would  have  ever 
completed  the  work.  He  was  not  always  liberal  in  acknow- 
ledging his  obligations ;  yet  in  his  New  Testament,  hidden 
away  in  a  page  where  no  one  would  have  expected  to  find  it, 
he  bursts  into  a  sudden  fit  of  enthusiasm  and  celebrates  the 
praises  of  Warham  in  language  such  as  none  but  Erasmus 
could  command.^  After  discanting  upon  the  Archbishop's 
modesty,  labom's,  genius,  administration  of  justice  (for  he  was 
still  Chancellor),  his  patronage  of  letters  and  learned  men, 
Erasmus  thus  pursues  the  subject : 

"  Had  it  been  my  good  fortune  to  have  fallen  in  with  such  a  Maecenas 
in  my  earlier  years,  I  might,  perhaps,  have  done  sometliing  for  literature. 
Now,  bom  as  I  was  in  an  unhappy  age,  when  barbarism  reigned  supreme, 
especially  among  my  own  people,  by  whom  the  least  inclination  for 
literature  was  then  looked  upon  as  little  better  than  a  crime,  what  could  I 
do  with  my  small  modicum  of  talent  ?  Death  carried  off  Henry  de 
Berghes,  bishop  of  Cambray,  my  tirst  patron  ;  my  second,  William  lord 
Mount  joy,  an  English  peer,  was  separated  from  me  by  his  employments 
at  court  and  the  tumults  of  war.  JJy  his  means  it  was  my  good  fortmie, 
then  advanced  in  life  and  close  upon  my  fortieth  year,  to  be  introduced 
to  archbishop  Wareham.  Encouraged  and  cheered  by  his  bounty,  I 
revived  ;  I  gained  new  youth  and  strength  in  the  cause  of  literature. 
What  nature  and  my  country  denied  me,  his  bounty  supplied." 

These  expressions  of  gratitude  were   no   more  than   the 
Archbishop  deserved ;  in  addition  to  an  annual  pension  he 

'   In  Epist.  ad  Tbessalon.  i.  cap.  2. 


286  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

sent  various  sums  of  money  to  Erasmus,  generally  through 
More.  Nor  were  Warham  and  Mountjoy  his  only  friends. 
Tunstal  and  Lupset  assisted  him  in  his  collations  ;  Fisher, 
Fox,  More,  Colet,  Urswick,  and  Ammonius  made  him  continual 
presents,  and  pushed  his  interest  at  court.  Wolsey,  apparently 
indifferent  to  literary  praise,  offered  him  only  a  prebend  at 
Tournay — diopov  aStvpov  as  Erasmus  calls  it,  who  could  never 
be  persuaded  to  speak  well  of  Wolsey  afterwards. ^  When  the 
New  Testament  appeared,  it  was  applauded  by  those  whom 
we  have  been  told  to  regard  as  the  most  superstitious  and 
benighted  upholders  of  the  old  religion.  "  Lately  in  a  large 
concourse  of  people,"  writes  More,^  "  the  Bishop  of  Winchester 
(Fox)  affirmed  that  your  version  of  the  New  Testament  was 
worth  more  to  him  than  ten  commentaries.  The  bishops  were 
loud  in  its  praises,^  Warham  in  particular.  Fisher  had 
always  been  one  of  its  earliest  promoters.  Tunstal,  as  I  have 
remarked  already,  had  assisted  with  his  scholarship  and  his 
bounty. 

The  experiment  was  a  bold  one — the  boldest  that  had  been 
conceived  in  this  century  or  for  many  centm-ies  before  it. 
We  are  accustomed  to  the  freest  expression  of  opinion  in 
Biblical  criticism,  and  any  attempt  to  supersede  our  English 
version,  to  treat  its  inaccuracies  with  scorn,  to  represent  it  as  far 
below  the  science  and  scholarship  of  the  age,  or  as  a  barbarous 
unlettered  production,  made  from  inaccurate  manuscripts, 
and  imperfectly  executed  by  men  who  did  not  understand  the 
language  of  the  original,  would  excite  little  apprehension  or 
alarm.*  To  explain  the  text  of  Scripture  exclusively  by  the 
rules  of  human  wisdom,  guided  by  the  same  principles  as  are 
freely  applied  to  classical  authors, — to  discriminate  the 
spm'ious  from  the  genuine,  and  decide  that  this  was  canonical, 
and  that  was  not — might,  perhaps,  be  regarded  as  audacious. 
Yet  all  this,  and  not  less  than  this,  did  Erasmus  propose  to 
himself  in  his  edition  and  translation  of  the  New  Testament. 
He  meant  to  subvert  the  authority  of  the  Vulgate,  and  to 
show  that  much  of  the  popular  theology  of  the  day,  its  errors 
and  misconceptions,  were  founded  entirely  on  a  misapprehen- 
sion of  the  original  meaning,  and  inextricably  entangled  with 
the  old  Latin  version.  It  was  his  avowed  object  to  bring  up 
the  translation  of  the  sacred  books,  and  all  criticism  connected 

>  See  II.  889,  .890,  1552,  2066.  written  in  the  year  1864,  before  the 

2  II.  2831.  project    of    a    Revised   Version    had 

3  II.  2074,  2196.  assumed  anything  like  definite  shape. 
*  This,   it  may  be  observed,  was  — Ed. 


1516.]  ERASMUS'   NEW   TESTAMENT.  287 

with  them,  to  the  level  of  that  scholarship  in  his  days  which 
had  been  successfully  applied  to  the  illustration  of  ancient 
authors  ;  to  set  aside  all  rules  of  interpretation  resting  merely 
on  faith  and  authority,  and  replace  them  by  the  philological 
and  historical.  And  it  was  precisely  for  this  reason  that 
Luther  disliked  the  work.^  In  this  respect  the  New  Testament 
of  Erasmus  must  be  regarded  as  the  foundation  of  that  new 
school  of  teaching  on  which  Anglican  theology  professes 
exclusively  to  rest ;  as  such  it  is  not  only  the  type  of  its  class, 
but  the  most  direct  enunciation  of  that  Protestant  principle 
which,  from  that  time  until  this,  has  found  its  expression  in 
various  forms :  "  The  Bible  alone  is  the  religion  of  Protestants." 
Whatever  can  be  read  therein  or  proved  thereby  is  binding 
uj)on  all  men  ;  what  cannot,  is  not  to  be  required  of  any  man 
as  an  article  of  his  faith,  either  by  societies  or  individuals. 
Who  sees  not  that  the  authority  of  the  Church  was  displaced, 
and  the  sufficiency  of  all  men  individually  to  read  and  interpret 
for  themselves  was  thus  asserted  by  the  New  Testament  of 
Erasmus  ? 

The  work  found  readers  where  readers  were  least  to  be 
expected ;  not  merely  in  universities  and  among  bishops,  but 
with  friars  and  monks  and  other  religious  orders.  It  was 
talked  over  in  the  common  rooms  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge ; 
criticized  in  the  refectory  of  the  friars,  or  the  nun's  parlours  ; 
preached  at  from  the  pulpit  and  the  lecture  room  ;  the  topic 
of  conversation  at  court ;  declaimed  against  before  lord  mayors 
and  corporations.  Violet  and  scarlet  hoods  fluttered  with 
emotion  at  its  daring  innovations  ;  black  woollen  gowns  and 
white  enlarged,  in  corners,  to  anxious,  upturned  faces,  on  the 
new  version  which  had  re-written  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,  and 
put  unauthorized  phrases  into  the  Magnificat  and  the  Pater 
nosier.  I  have  already  stated  that  the  age  was  not  that  sink 
of  corruption  which  modern  historians  delights  to  paint  it. 
And  the  universal  interest  taken  in  this  work  of  Erasmus 
shows  equally  that  the  age  was  not  so  illiterate  as  it  is  often 
assumed  to  be.  Popular  stories  of  the  Bible  being  unknown, 
of  the  total  indifference  of  the  friars  to  learning,  rest  like  most 
popular  stories  on  vulgar  credulity.  Here  is  a  passage  from 
Mere's  Utopia,  written  in  1516,  which  conveys  a  very  different 
impression  : — 

'  See   hifl   letters  22  and  29.     To       Galatians,  the  profoundest  of  all  his 
the  last,  Lutlicr  retained  the  use  of       works, 
the  Vulgate  in  his  commentary  on  the 


288  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

"  Men's  tastes  differ  much  ;  some  are  so  morose,  so  sour  in  disposition, 
and  their  judgments  so  perverse,  that  people  of  cheerful  and  lively 
temper,  v^ho  indulge  their  humors,  seem  much  more  happy  than  those 
who  torment  themselves  by  writing  books,  or  attempting  to  please  or 
profit  the  ungrateful  and  fastidious.  Many  know  nothing  of  learning  and 
others  despise  it.  To  the  lover  of  barbarisms  all  is  rough  and  distasteful 
that  is  not  barbarous.  The  sciolist  despises  as  common  place  whatever 
abounds  not  in  antiquated  expressions.  Some  love  antiquity  only  ;  the 
greater  part,  novelty.  This  man  is  of  ''  so  vinegar  an  aspect  "  that  he  can 
allow  no  jokes  ;  another  so  dull  he  cannot  endure  wit.  This  man's  face  is 
so  flat  he  is  as  much  afraid  of  a  nose  as  the  devil  of  holy  water.  Some 
again  are  so  changeable,  that  their  thoughts  alter  as  rapidly  as  their 
postures.  These  sit  in  taverns,  and  take  upon  them  to  criticise  works  of 
genius  over  their  cups.  They  cannot  endure  the  least  ridicule,  and  con- 
demn in  authoritative  tones,  ad  libitum,  with  no  less  advantage  than  a 
bald  man  plucks  his  neighbour's  hair  ;  for  they  are  so  smooth  and  shorn — 
these  good  fellows — they  present  not  a  single  hair  for  others  to  lay  hold 
on.  Some  are  so  unthankful  that  even  when  they  are  well  pleased  with  a 
book  they  love  not  the  author  the  more,  and  are  like  those  rude  guests, 
who,  after  they  have  been  well  entertained,  go  away  with  a  belly-full, 
without  so  much  as  thanking  their  host. " 

And  this  brings  me,  in  conclusion,  to  some  remarks  on  the 
Utopia  itself.    A  modern  French  author,  with  that  sprightliness 
and  lively  declamation  for  which   he  is  justly   remarkable, 
characterizes  the  Utopia  of  Sir  Thomas  More  as  "an  insipid 
romance  in  which  the  author  has  taken  great  pains  to  discover 
truths  already  realized  by  the  mystic  communists  of  the  middle 
ages  in  a  more  original  manner.     The  design  of  the  work  is 
common-place,  its  matter  ordinary ;  it  has  little  imagination, 
and  less  sense  of  reality."  ^     There  is  not  the  least  reason  for 
supposing  that  More  was  ever  acquainted  with  the  communistic 
doctrines  of  the  middle  ages,  or  ever  wished  to  establish  them. 
For  common  tables  and  community  of  goods  in  the  institu- 
tions of  Utopia,  More  M^as  indebted  to  Plato  and  the  laws  of 
'  Lycurgus  ;  for  More  was  much  more  familiar  with  the  classical 
than  the   middle  ages ; — and  these   were   introduced   for   a 
different  purpose  than  that  which  M.  Michelet  surmises.     We 
readily  concede  that  there  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  Utopia  the 
wonderful    invention,    the    inexhaustible   wit,   the    profound 
learning,  the  broad  farce,  the  abundant  physical  coarseness, 
the   sarcasm   and  unextinguishable    laughter,   the   tenderest 
and  profoundest  sentiments  masquerading  in  grotesque  and 
ludicrous  shapes,  the  healthy  vigorous  humanity,  overflowing 
at  one  time  with  clear  and  beautiful  truths,  and  then  anon 
stranded  in  pools  of  mud  and  filth,  that  are  to  be  found  in 
Rabelais.     But  the  objects  of  the  two  men  were  as  different  as 
their  natures.     The  wit  and  humour  of  More  is  that  of  the 

'  La  forme  est  plate,  le  fonds  commnn.     Michelet,  Reforme,  p.  414, 


1516.]  MORE'S  "UTOPIA."  289 

thoughtful  observant  Englishman,  not  breaking  out  into  peals 
of  laughter,  but  so  quiet,  sedate,  and  serious  as  to  demand  on 
the  part  of  the  reader  something  of  the  same  ha.bit  of  quiet 
thought  and  observation,  to  be  fully  perceived  and  enjoyed. 
More  hovers  so  perj^etually  on  the  confines  of  jest  and  earnest, 
passes  so  naturally  from  one  to  the  other,  that  the  reader  is  in 
constant  suspense  whether  his  jest  be  serious,  or  his  serious- 
ness a  jest.  The  book  is  wonderful]}^  Englishlike ;  wonderfully 
like  that  balancing  habit  of  mind  which  trembles  on  the  verge 
of  right  and  wrong,  sometimes  struggling  on  in  happier  times 
to  clearer  vision,  sometimes,  like  More,  shutting  its  eyes  and 
relapsing  into  older  impressions  unable  to  endure  suspense 
any  longer. 

In  More's  own  day  the  Utopia  was  regarded  as  a  mirror  of 
the  political  and  social  evils  of  the  times. ^  "  A  burgomaster 
at  Antwerp,"  writes  Erasmus,  "  is  so  pleased  with  it,  he  knows 
it  all  by  heart."  Its  popularity  is  attested  by  numerous 
editions  ^  and  translations.  The  scene  of  it  is  laid  in  the  then 
scarce-known  regions  of  the  West,  where  Christianity  had 
not  yet  penetrated.  It  describes  the  social  and  political  per- 
fection to  which  the  people  of  Utopia  had  arrived  by  the  mere 
efforts  of  natural  goodness,  as  compared  with  the  corrupt 
institutions  and  manners  of  Christendom.  The  Utopians  are 
not  entirely  free  from  usages  which  seem  incompatible  with  a 
model  republic,  and  this  is  part  of  the  author's  design.  They 
attempt  to  prevent  war  by  assassination,  and  bribe  the  subjects 
of  their  enemy  to  commit  treason.  But  he  must  be  dull 
indeed,  who  does  not  perceive  that  Utopia  when  following  out 
these  principles,  is  removed  but  a  few  miles  from  the  English 
Channel,  and  that  a  practice  which  seems  the  more  odious  in 
these  upright  and  wise  Utopians  was  tenfold  more  unjustifiable 
in  those  who,  professing  the  doctrines  of  Christ  never  scrupled 
to  employ  the  same  means  against  their  own  enemies.  Were 
the  intrigues  of  Henry  VIII.  and  his  minister  Dacre  against 
Scotland  more  moral  than  these  ?  Were  not  their  attempts  to 
sow  treason  and  disaffection  among  the  Scotch  lords  an  exact 
exemplification  of  this  Utopian  policy  '?  Letter  after  letter  in 
this  volume  betrays  a  similar  design  for  decoying  or  cutting 
off  The  White  Rose,  Be  la  Pole,^  thus  illustrating  More's  words 

'  II.  29G2,  2996.  correspondence  passed  through  Tun- 

^  The  first  was  at  Louvain  in  1516,  stal's    hands    when    minister   in    the 

the  next  at  Basle  in  I'AH,  and  another,  Netherlands.     And  it  is  greatly  to  his 

a  few  months  after,  at  Paris.  credit   that    he    always    discouraged 

^  It   is   worth   noticing  that   this  these  speculators  in  private  assassina- 
VOL.    I,  U 


290  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

to  the  letter  :  "  By  this  means  it  has  often  fallen  out  that 
many  of  them,  even  the  Prince  himself  has  been  betrayed 
by  those,  in  whom  they  trusted  most ;  for  the  rewards  the 
Utopians  offer  are  so  immeasurably  great  that  there  is  no  sort 
of  crime  to  which  men  cannot  be  drawn  by  them." 

But  UtoiDia  is  nowhere,  and  was  never  intended  to  be,  set 
up  as  a  model  to  be  literally  followed.  Could  More  seriously 
advocate  a  community  of  goods,  even  if  as  a  sound  lawyer  he 
could  expect  to  see  the  Utopian  prohibition  verified,  that  the 
nations  of  Europe  should  have  fewer  laws  and  no  lawyers?^ 
Could  he  gravely  recommend  a  purely  elective  monarchy, 
even  if,  with  his  religious  views,  he  might  have  justified  the 
marriage  of  priests,  to  which  he  has  never  given  any  sanction 
in  his  writings?  But  though  the  Utopia  was  not  to  be 
literally  followed — was  no  more  than  an  abstraction  at  which 
no  one  would  have  laughed  more  heartily  than  More  himself, 
if  interpreted  too  strictly — Utopia  might  serve  to  show  to 
a  corrupt  Christendom  what  good  could  be  effected  by  the 
natural  instincts  of  men  when  following  the  dictates  of  natural 
prudence  and  justice.  If  kings  could  never  be  elective  in 
Europe,  Utopia  might  show  the  advantage  to  a  nation  where 
kings  were  responsible  to  some  other  will  than  their  own. 
/  If  property  could  never  be  common,  Utopia  might  teach  men 
how  great  was  the  benefit  to  society  when  the  state  regarded 
itself  as  created  for  the  well-being  of  all,  and  not  of  a  class 
or  a  favoured  few.  Literally  property  could  never  be  common, 
except  in  Utopia ;  but  it  might  be  so  in  effect  in  Christian 
communities  when  capital  and  property  were  more  widely 
diffused, — when  the  enormous  disproportion  between  the  poor 
and  the  rich,  the  noble  and  the  serf,  was  modified  by  social 
improvements, — when  laws  were  simplified,  and  the  statute 

tion,  and  gave  no  credence  to  the  that  are  both  of  such  a  bulk  and  so 
numerous  spies  and  vagabonds  who  dark  that  they  cannot  be  read  or 
now,  and  much  more  in  after  times,  understood  by  every  one  of  their  sub- 
were    employed   by    Henry   to    carry  jects. 

out  this  Utopian  policy.     Strange  that  "  They   have    no   lawyers    among 

what  then  was    considered  too   scan-  them,    for   they  consider   them   as  a 

dalous  to  be  done  openly  should  now  sort  of  people  whose  profession  it  is 

find  defenders  on  the  plea  of  State  to  disguise  matters  as  well  as  to  arrest 

necessity !  laws ;  and  therefore  they  think  it  is 

'  "  They  have  but  few  laws,  and  much  better  that   every  man  should 

such  is   their  constitution    that   they  plead  his  own  cause  and  trust  it   to 

need  not  many.     They  do  very  much  the  judge,  as  in  other  places  the  client 

condemn   other  nations    whose    laws,  does  to  his  councillor.     By  this  means 

together  with  the  commentaries  upon  they  both  cut  off  many  delays  and  find 

them,  swell  to  so  many  volumes  ;  for  out  truth    more    certainly."     A    bold 

they  think  it  an  unreasonable  thing  to  stroke  against  trial  by  jury, 
oblige  men  to  obey  a  body  of  laws 


1516.]  MORE'S   "UTOPIA."  291 

book  disencumbered  of  obsolete  and  unintelligible  Acts,  too 
often  put  in  force  to  catch  the  unwary,  and  made  an  instrument 
of  oppression  by  the  crown  lawyers. 

It  might,  perhaps,  be  thought  that  More  attributed  too 
much  to  nature, — that  in  the  misery  and  confusion  of  his 
times,  in  the  deadlock  of  all  social,  political,  and  religious 
reforms,  in  his  dissatisfaction  at  Christianity,  as  exhibited 
in  the  lives  of  his  contemporaries,  he  gladly  turned  away  to 
an  ideal  as  little  like  the  reality  as  possible,  and  pleased 
himself,  as  some  did  at  the  French  Revolution,  with  a  pure 
social  abstraction  removed  from  all  those  debasing  influences 
under  which  men  groaned.  We  might  be  tempted  to  think 
for  a  moment  that  he  wavered  in  his  allegiance  to  Christianity, 
and  that  the  beautiful  visions  of  Platonic  republics  and  ancient 
patriots,  fostered  by  his  classical  studies,  had  for  a  time  over- 
mastered his  imagination,  as  was  the  case  with  many  others. 
Christianity,  in  his  days  at  least,  could  present  no  such 
heroical  virtue,  no  such  grace  or  beauty,  as  Paganism  had 
done,  and  was  then  doing,  with  an  intensity  of  attraction  to 
the  newly-awakened  longings  of  men,  of  which  we  can  form 
no  conception.  Were  monks  and  friars  comparable  to  the 
ancient  philosopher  and  his  supper  of  herbs  ?  Were  Christian 
kings  of  the  sixteenth  century,  imperious,  headstrong,  pas- 
sionate, and  arbitrary,  immersed  in  the  games  of  war  and 
ambition,  absorbed  by  the  tournament,  or  the  chase,  impatient 
of  contradiction,  deaf  to  good  advice — comparable  to  the 
Catos,  the  Eeguli,  the  Spartan  or  Sabine  rulers  of  the  old 
republics  ?  Had  not  the  advancement  of  the  faith  been  made 
a  pretext  for  spoliation  and  aggrandizement  ?  Had  not  its 
teachers  taken  part  rather  with  the  oppressors  than  the 
oppressed  ?  Were  not  half  the  wars  of  Christendom  trace- 
able to  this  one  cause  ? — ignoble  wars  that  only  fostered 
the  evils  under  which  society  laboured,  strengthening  the 
oppressor  and  trampling  on  the  weak  ?  Had  More's  faith 
staggered  at  the  trial,  it  could  have  occasioned  little  surprise ; 
but  apparently  it  did  not.  For  Christianity  is  introduced 
among  the  Utopians ;  it  is  readily  received  by  them  from  its 
secret  sympathy  with  their  own  opinions  and  institutions  in 
its  purer  form. 

But  a  very  brief  sketch  of  the  Utopian  political  and  social 
regulations  will  point  out  more  clearly  the  prevalent  evils  of 
More's  days.  I  wish  I  might  ask  my  reader  to  carry  in  his 
memory  the  leading  topics  of  the  preceding  chapters  ; — the 


292  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

endless  wars,  the  faithless  leagues,  the  military  expenditure, 
the  money  and  time  wasted  upon  instruments  and  means  of 
offence  to  the  neglect  of  all  social  improvements,  unsettled"" 
habits,  trains  of  idle  serving-men  re-enacting  in  the  streets  the 
interminable  brawls  of  the  Montagues  and  Capulets,  broken 
and  disabled  soldiers  turning  to  theft,  and  filling  Alsatia  for' 
lack  of  employment,  labour  disarranged,  husbandry  broken  up, 
villages  and  hamlets  depopulated  to  feed  sheep,  agricultural 
labourers  turned  adrift,  but  forbidden  to  stray,  and  driven 
home  from  tithing  to  tithing  by  the  lash,  to  starve  ;  no  poor- 
houses,   no   hospitals,  though   the    sweating  sickness   raged 
through  the  land,  but  the  poor  left  to  perish  as  paupers  by 
the  side  of  the  ditches,  filling  the  air  with  fever  and  pestilence, 
houses  never  swept  or  ventilated,  choked  with  rotten  thatch 
above  and  unchanged  rushes  within,  streets  reeking  with  offal 
and  filthy  jDuddles,  no  adequate  supply  of  water  for  cleanliness 
or  health,  penal  laws  stringently  enforced,  more  stringently 
as  the  evils  grew  greater,  crime  and  its  punishment  struggling 
for  the   upper   hand,  justice   proud   of  its   executions,   and 
wondering  that  theft  multiplied  faster  than  the  gibbet.     Then 
again,  and  unquestionably  the  greatest  blot  upon  the  reign  of 
•\       Henry  VIII. — was  the  sudden  revival  of  obsolete  statutes ; 
^^^^     as   in  the  punishment  of  the  London  apprentices  and  the~ 
jjrccmunire  in  1530.     More's  language  ^  looks  prophetical,  as 
if  he  pierced  into  futurity,  and  saw  beneath  the  popular  and 
fascinating  exterior  of  Henry  VIII.  the  monarch  who  should 
one  day  use  the  law,  not  for  the  protection,  but  the  oppression 
of  his  subjects.     "  One  set  of  ministers,"  says  the  supposed 
traveller  in  Utopia,  "  will  bring  forward  some  old  musty  laws 
that  have  been  antiquated  by  a  long  disuse,  and  which,  as 
they  have  been  forgotten  by  all  the  king's  subjects,  so  they 
have  also  been  broken  by  them ;  and  will  urge  that  the  levy- 
ing of  the  penalties  of  these  laws,  as  it  will  bring  in  a  vast 
treasure,  so  also  fails  not  of  a  very  good  pretence,  since  it 
would  look  like  the  executing  of  the  law  and  the  doing  of  justice*'  ^ 
"Another  proposes  that  the  judges  should  be  made  sure  of, 
that  in  all  causes  affecting  the  king  they  may  always  give 
sentence  in  his  favour,  and  be  sent  for  to  the  palace  and 
invited  to  discuss  the  matter  before  the  king,  that  there  may 

'  The  face  of  More  is  remarkable  procurins^  bulls  from  Rome,  in  which, 

for  its  peering  anxious  look,  as  of  a  as  has  been  already  shown  (pp.  267, 

man  endeavouring  to  penetrate    into  268),  the  King  was  as  much  implicated 

and  yet  dreading  the  future.  as  his  minister. 

*  As    in    Wolsey's    attainder    for 


1516.]  MOEE'S   "UTOPIA."  293 

be  no  cause  of  his,  however  obviously  unjust,  in  which  some 
among  them,  either  through  love  of  contradiction,  or  pride  of 
singularity,  or  desu-e  to  win  favour,  will  not  find  out  some 
pretence  or  another  for  giving  sentence  in  the  king's  behalf. 
.  .  .  And  there  never  will  be  wanting  some  pretext  for  de- 
claring in  the  king's  favor ; — as,  that  equity  is  on  his  side, 
or  the  strict  letter  of  the  law,  or  some  forced  interpretation 
of  it ;  or  if  none  of  these,  that  the  royal  prerogative  ought 
with  conscientious  judges  to  outweigh  all  other  considerations. 
And  these  notions  are  fostered  by  the  maxims,  that  the  king 
can.do  no  wrong,  however  much  he  may  wish  to  do  it ;  that 
not  only  the  property,  but  the  persons  of  his  subjects,  are 
his ; — that  a  man  has  a  right  to  no  more  than  the  king's 
goodness  think  fit  not  to  take  from  him." 

Extravagant  as  such  doctrines  may  appear  to  us  in  these 
days,  they  represent  the  feelings  of  the  people,  and  the 
position  of  the  Sovereign  in  the  days  of  the  Tudors.  Absolute 
in  theory,  clergy,  judges,  people  strove  to  render  the  pre- 
rogative more  absolute,  both  in  theory  and  practice.  So  long 
as  Wolsey  lived  the  Church  formed  some  barrier  ;  afterwards, 
as  it  stood  for  a  time  without  any  such  control,  before  the 
House  of  Commons  or  public  opinion  had  yet  risen  to  take 
the  place  of  the  Church,  Government  was  absolutely  identified 
with  the  will  of  the  Sovereign  ;  his  word  was  law  for  the  con- 
sciences as  well  as  the  conduct  of  his  subjects.  And  the 
remembrance  of  the  civil  commotions  of  the  fifteenth  century 
springing  solely  from  a  disputed  succession — the  rooted  con- 
viction that  society  must  relapse  once  more  into  confusion 
under  a  similar  evil — that  it  was  disintegrated,  that  all  social 
order  was  bound  up  in  the  King,  as  its  only  certain  and 
immovable  centre — nurtured  in  the  minds  of  Englishmen 
the  extravagant  doctrines  thus  denounced  by  More.  Any 
wrong,  any  injustice,  any  royal  violation  of  the  law,  however 
flagrant,  was  a  more  tolerable  evil  than  disobedience,  or 
opposition  to  the  will  of  the  prince,  however  just  or  sacred 
the  cause.  For  that,  in  the  temper  of  the  times,  people  had 
no  sympathy ;  the  will  of  the  prince,  however  expressed,  as 
Eomanist  or  Protestant,  in  passing  the  Six  Articles  or  behead- 
ing More,  in  divorcing  Queen  Katharine  or  marrying  Anne 
Boleyn,  was  to  be  respected.  Innocence  itself  was  to  plead 
"  guilty,"  and  suffer  as  guilt,  if  the  King  required  it.  How 
far  Cromwell  took  advantage  of  this  feeling  it  is  not  my 
present  purpose  to  inquire. 


294  THE  REIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  U-T). 

Such  evils  as  these  could  have  no  place  among  the 
Utopians.  Their  monarchy  was  elective,  their  government 
strictly  representative: — "The  prince  is  for  hfe,  but  he  is 
removable  on  suspicion  of  a  design  to  enslave  his  people." 
Strange  doctrine  this  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  !  Due  pro- 
vision was  made  for  the  health,  education,  employment,  re- 
creation of  the  people — subjects  quite  below  the  consideration 
of  monarchs  and  ministers  in  Christian  Europe.  Every  street 
was  twenty  feet  broad  ;  ^  every  house  was  built  of  stone,  with 
its  garden  behind  it  for  health  and  recreation;  a  striking 
contrast  to  the  mean  hovels,  mud  walls,  thatched  roofs, 
straggling  with  overhanging  gables,  and  shutting  out  both  air 
and  light  in  the  metropolis  of  England.  Labour  alternated 
from  town  to  country  and  from  country  to  town  ;  learning 
followed  work,  and  work  learning.  Public  lectures  were  given 
every  morning  before  daybreak ;  after  supper  diversion ; 
summer  in  their  gardens,  winter  in  their  pubHc  halls,  with 
music  and  discourse.  No  games  except  chess  were  allowed, 
or  an  allegorical  tournament  between  vices  and  virtues.  All, 
whatever  their  condition,  male  or  female,  noble  or  ignoble, 
were  set  to  learn  some  trade.  Six  hom^s  for  labour,  the 
others  for  rest ;  but  that  rest  must  be  reasonably  employed  in 
reading,  exercise,  or  gardening.  Labour  common,  and  property 
common ;  common  halls  in  every  district,  "  where  they  all 
meet  and  eat;"  hospitals  without  the  walls,  "so  large  that 
they  may  pass  for  little  towns  ;  by  this  means,  if  they  had 
ever  such  a  number  of  sick,  they  could  lodge  them  con- 
veniently, and  at  sufQcient  distances  to  prevent  contagion." 
No  slaughter-houses  permitted  within  the  walls,  no  offal,  no 
pestilential  manufactures.  In  the  country  these  restrictions 
were  relaxed. 

Fathers  and  grandfathers,  sons  and  daughters-in-law,  made 
one  family,  and  lived  under  the  same  roof,  like  More's  own 
family  at  Chelsea.  In  this  respect  no  philosopher  ever  ex- 
emplified his  own  precepts  more  perfectly  than  More.  And 
if  we  may  accept  the  repeated  and  uniform  assurances  of  his 
contemporaries — if  the  respect  and  affection  of  all  his  house- 
hold, which  accompanied  him  even  to  the  scaffold,  be  any  test 
— his  own  practice  must  have  been  the  noblest  proof  of  the 
sound  wisdom  of  his  theory.  Englishmen  and  strangers 
admitted  to  his  acquaintance  testify  to  the  peace,  purity,  love, 

*  What,  then,  must  the  streets  of  London  have  been  ?     Perhaps  some  10  or 
12  fee 


1516.]  MORE'S   "UTOPIA."  295 

coiu'tesy,  and  refinement  that  reigned  supreme  in  his  family ; 
— far  more  Utopian,  when  compared  with  what  is  known  of 
the  private  lives  of  his  contemporaries,  than  any  household  in 
Utopia  itself. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  cheerfulness,  regard  to  the  welfare 
and  happiness  of  others,  gentleness  and  good  nature,  formed 
a  very  prominent  part  in  the  philosophy  of  the  Utopians, 
and  these  not  merely  as  private  but  public  virtues  ; — that  on 
the  same  principle  gambling,  hunting,  and  field  sports  were 
disallowed,  as  pleasures  purchased  by  the  pain  of  inferior 
animals,  and  degenerating  into  brutality  by  frequent  in- 
dulgence.^ Closely  connected  with  these  feelings  was  the 
attention  paid  by  the  Utopians  to  the  condition  of  the  labour- 
ing classes,  and  their  regulations  to  prevent  the  workman, 
skilled  or  unskilled,  from  being  ground  down  to  that  hopeless 
wretchedness,  which  at  last  burst  out  into  open  rebellion  here 
and  on  the  continent. 

"  Wlaat  justice  is  this,"  says  Raphael,  the  imaginary  traveller,  "  that 
a  nobleman,  a  goldsmith,  or  a  banker,  or  any  other  man  that  does  nothing 
at  all,  should  live  in  great  luxury  and  splendor,  and  a  carter,  a  smith,  or  a 
ploughman  that  works  harder  than  the  beasts  themselves,  and  is  employed 
in  labors  of  such  a  nature  that  no  commonwealth  could  exist  for  a  year 
without  them,  should  be  able  to  earn  so  poor  a  livelihood,  and  lead  so 
miserable  a  life,  that  the  condition  of  the  beasts  is  much  better  than  his  ? 
For  as  the  beasts  do  not  work  so  constantly,  feed  almost  as  well  and  more 
pleasantly,  have  no  anxiety  for  the  future,  these  men,  on  the  contrary, 
are  crushed  by  a  barren  and  profitless  employment,  and  tormented  with 
apprehensions  of  want  in  their  old  age.  What  they  obtain  by  tlieir  daily 
labor  serves  only  for  their  daily  maintenance  ; — is  consumed  as  fast  as  it 
comes  in  ; — and  no  surplus  is  left  them  to  lay  up  for  old  age.  Is  not  that 
government  unjust  that  takes  no  care  of  the  meaner  sort,  and  when  they 
can  no  longer  serve  it,  and  are  oppressed  with  age,  sickness,  and  want,  all 
the  labors  and  good  they  have  done  are  forgotten,  and  their  only  reward 
is  to  die  in  great  misery?  Add  to  this,  all  the  richer  sort  are  often 
endeavouring  to  bring  the  hire  of  laborers  lower,  not  only  by  fraudulent 
practices,  but  by  the  laws  which  they  procure  to  be  made  to  that  eftect  for 
regulating  labor."  '^ 

Nor  is  More  less  severe  against  the  foreign  policy  of  the 
governments  of  Europe  ;  their  utter  carelessness  in  breaking 
treaties  however  solemnly  ratified ;  their  employment  of 
mercenaries  ;  the  absence  of  all  controlling  power  on  the  part 
of  the  popes,  who  rather  imitated  than  denounced  the  per- 

'  It  must  be  remembered  that  in  been  born  and  bred  a  citizen. 
More's   time    no    game-seasons    were  ^  A  liard  hit  against  the  Statute  of 

observed      by      country      gentlemen.  Laborers ; — strangely  cnougli  quoted 

Their  whole  life  was  occapicd   with  of  late  as  an  institution  of  the  Tudora 

field  sports.    Cromwell  shot  partridges  to  protect  the  employed  against  the 

all  the  year  round ;  but  then  he  had  employer. 


296  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

nicious  practices  of  the  secular  rulers.  "  The  Utopians,"  he 
says,  "  make  no  leagues  as  other  nations  do.  What  is  the 
use  of  leagues  ?  say  they ;  do  you  think  that  a  man  will  care 
for  words  whom  natui'al  affection  fails  to  reconcile  to  his 
fellow-man  ?  "  Then  adds  More,  with  grave  irony  :  "In 
Europe,  and  especially  the  parts  about  us  where  Christianity 
is  received,  the  majesty  of  treaties  is  everywhere  regarded  as 
holy  and  inviolable,  partly  from  the  justice  and  goodness  of 
kings,  partly  from  the  fear  and  reverence  they  feel  for  the 
sovereign  Pontiffs  ;  for  as  the  latter  never  take  engagements 
upon  them  which  they  do  not  religiously  observe,  so  they 
enjoin  uj)on  all  princes  to  abide  by  their  promises  at  all 
hazards,  and  if  they  equivocate,  subject  them  to  ecclesiastical 
censures  !  For  they  justly  consider  it  a  most  indecent  thing, 
for  them  who  claim  the  title  of  the  faithful  to  show  no  faith  in 
their  treaties."  Again,  in  illustration  of  this  topic.  More 
observes :  if  in  their  wars  against  their  enemies  other  means 
fail,  "they  sow  the  seeds  of  dissension  among  them,  and  set 
up  the  king's  brother  or  some  nobleman  to  aspire  to  the 
crown;  "  a  remark  which  receives  ample  illustration  from  the 
State  Papers. — "Or,"  he  continues,  "if  domestic  factions 
languish,  they  stir  up  against  them  the  neighbouring  nations; 
and  rummaging  out  some  old  claims  which  are  never  wanting  to 
princes,  supply  them  abundantly  with  money  for  the  war,  but 
not  with  their  own  troops."  Then  follows  a  passage  aimed  so 
directly  against  the  policy  of  England  that  I  wonder  More  had 
the  courage  to  insert  it,  only  that  as  France  pursued  the  same 
methods,  unreflecting  readers  might  not  at  once  perceive  how 
the  arrow  glanced  from  one  nation  to  the  other : — 

"  They  hire  soldiers  from  all  places,  but  chiefly  from  the  Zapoletse 
(the  Swiss)  ;  a  hardy  race,  patient  of  heat,  cold  and  labor  ;  strangers  to 
all  delights,  indifferent  to  agriculture,  careless  of  their  houses  and  their 
clothes,  studious  of  nothing  but  their  cattle.  They  live  by  hunting  and 
plunder  ;  born  only  for  war,  which  they  watch  all  opportunities  of  engaging 
in,  they  embrace  it  eagerly  when  offered,  and  are  ready  to  serve  any 
prince  that  will  hire  them,  in  great  numbers.  They  know  none  of  the 
arts  of  life,  except  how  to  take  it  away.  They  serve  their  employers 
actively  and  faithfully  ;  but  will  bind  themselves  to  no  certain  terms,  and 
only  agree  on  condition  that  next  day  they  shall  go  over  to  the  enemy  if 
he  promises  larger  pay,  and  veer  back  again  the  day  after  at  a  higher 
bidding.  As  war  rarely  arises  in  which  a  greater  part  of  them  is  not 
enlisted  on  both  sides,  it  often  happens  that  kinsmen  and  most  intimate 
friends,  hired  from  the  same  cantons,  find  themselves  opposed,  engage 
and  kill  one  another,  regardless  of  these  ties,  for  no  other  consideration 
than  that  they  have  been  hired  to  do  so  for  a  miserable  pay,  by  princes  of 
opposite  interests  ;  and  they  are  so  nice  in  demanding  it  that  they  will 
change  sides  for  the  advance  of  a  halfjjenny.     And  yet  their  wages  are  of 


1516.]  MORE'S  "UTOPIA."  297 

no  use  to  them,  for  they  spend  them  immediately  in  low  dissipation. 
They  serve  the  Utopians  against  all  the  world,  for  they  are  the  best 
paymasters.  And  as  the  Utopians  look  out  for  good  men  for  their  owai 
use  at  home,  they  employ  the  greatest  scoundrels  abroad  ;  and  they  think 
they  do  a  great  service  to  mankind  by  thus  ridding  the  world  of  the 
entire  scum  of  such  a  foul  and  nefarious  population." 

But  it  is  time  for  me  to  bring  these  remarks  to  a  close.  If 
any  one  wishes  to  see  the  real  condition  of  Europe  at  this 
period — the  arbitrary  rule  of  its  monarchs  bent  on  their  own 
aggrandisement,  and  careless  of  the  improvement  of  their 
people — the  disputes  among  their  councillors,  agreed  in  one 
point  only,  to  flatter  and  mislead  their  sovereigns — the  wide 
separation  between  the  luxury  of  the  rich  and  the  hopeless 
misery  of  the  poor — the  prevalence  of  crime — the  severe 
execution  of  justice,  earnest  for  punishment,  but  regardless  of 
prevention — the  frequency  of  capital  punishment — the  depopu- 
lation of  villages — the  engrossing  by  a  few  hands  of  corn  and 
wool — the  scarcity  of  meat — the  numbers  of  idle  gentlemen 
without  emploj'ment — of  idle  serving-men  and  retainers  turned 
adi-ift  on  a  life  of  vagabondism  : — in  short,  whoever  wishes  to 
see  society  full  of  the  elements  of  confusion,  requiring  only  a 
small  spark  to  fan  them  into  a  flame,  may  read  with  advan- 
tage the  Utopia  of  Sii"  Thomas  More. 


298  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENEY  VIII.  [A.D. 


CHAPTEE  XL 

THE    IMPEEIAL   ELECTION. 

The  Emperor  Maximilian  died  on  the  12th  of  January,  1519. 
The  latter  days  of  his  life  had  been  employed  in  endeavouring 
to  secure  for  his  grandson  the  reversion  of  the  imperial  crown. 
He  prosecuted  this  object  with  greater  consistency  and  firm- 
ness than  he  did  most  of  his  schemes,  forged  by  a  brain 
unusually  fertile  in  expedients,  and  as  rapidl}^  abandoned  by 
his  easy  and  fickle  temperament.  Through  dint  of  bribery, 
entreaty,  perseverance,  and  boundless  promises,  he  had 
succeeded  in  obtaining  assurances  of  support  from  four  out  of 
the  seven  electors.  The  patriotism  or  avarice  of  the  Elector 
of  Cologne  was  propitiated  by  the  promise  of  20,000  florins  in 
ready  money,  and  a  pension  of  6,000  florins.  Thirty  thousand 
florins  and  the  hand  of  the  infanta  Katharine,  a  lady  whose 
"  great  beauty  and  virtue  "  were  enhanced  by  a  dowry  of 
70,000  florins,  payable  on  the  day  of  the  election,  secured  the 
Marquis  of  Brandenburg.  His  brother  the  Archbishop  of 
Mayence  was  contented  with  52,000  florins,  a  handsome 
credence,  a  service  of  silver  to  be  selected  by  himself,  and  the 
most  exquisite  tapestry  from  the  looms  of  Flanders.  The 
better  to  confirm  him  in  his  allegiance,  a  pension  of  8,000 
florins  was  promised  to  each  of  his  two  brothers.  As  for  the 
King  of  Bohemia,  a  boy  of  fifteen,  Maximilian  had  no  cause 
of  solicitude  ;  his  vote  was  determined  already  by  his  marriage 
with  Mary,  sister  of  the  King  of  Castile.  Three  other 
members  of  the  electoral  College  remained  undecided ;  the 
Count  Palatines,  the  Archbishop  of  Treves,  and  the  Elector  of 
Saxony.  The  last  two  were  inflexible.  The  enemies  of  the 
House  of  Hapsburg  had  chosen  to  congratulate  themselves 
that  the  last  sparks  of  virtue  and  patriotism  were  not  extin- 
guished in  the  breasts  of  the  noblest, — in  the  chiefs  of  their 
people.  Some  few  were  yet  to  be  found  in  the  hierarchy  of 
German  feudality,  to  whom  national  independence  and  the 


1519.]  THE   LAST   SCHEMES   OF   MAXIMILIAN.  299 

sanctity  of  an  oath,  were  something  more  than  empty  names. 
"I  swear  on  these  gospels  here  open  before  me" — such  was 
the  oath  repeated  after  the  Archbishop  of  Mayence  by  every 
one  of  the  electors — that  "  my  voice,  vote,  and  my  suffrage 
shall  be  given  unbiassed  by  any  pact,  price,  pledge  or  engage- 
ment under  any  pretence  whatsoever.  So  help  me  God,  and 
all  His  holy  saints  and  angels  !  " 

Yet  the  Archbishoj)  of  Treves  could  not  behold  with  com- 
placency the  dangerous  neighbourhood  and  restless  aggran- 
dizement of  the  House  of  Hapsburg.  The  Elector  of  Saxony 
had  reasons  of  his  own  for  disliking  Maximilian.  The  Prince 
Palatine  kept  aloof,  but  from  different  motives.  His  brother. 
Count  Frederick,  had  formed  a  secret  attachment  to  Charles's 
sister  Eleanor,  afterwards  Queen  of  Portugal.  For  this 
unwarrantable  presumption  the  Count  had  been  coldly  and 
haughtily  dismissed — to  employ  his  influence,  as  might 
naturally  have  been  expected,  with  his  brother  the  Elector,  in 
advancing  the  pretensions  of  Francis  I.  But  affection  for  the 
sister  outweighed  the  insult  received  from  the  brother.  The 
Count  readily  complied  with  the  summons  of  Maximilian.  He 
even  undertook,  for  a  pension  of  20,000  florins,  to  bring  over 
his  brother  to  the  Emperor's  views.  The  negociation  was 
costly  ;  the  Palatine  demanded  no  less  than  100,000  florins  as 
the  price  of  his  vote,  and  certain  other  concessions,  not  needful 
here  to  be  insisted  on.  At  the  cost  of  half  a  million  of  gold 
florins,  in  the  shape  of  jjresents,  and  70,000  or  something 
more,  by  way  of  annuities,  Maximilian  had  contrived  to  secure 
or  corrupt  the  highest  nobility  in  Germany.  He  had  fixed,  as 
he  thought,  the  imperial  crown  in  the  House  of  Hapsburg  for 
ever.  The  price  of  the  Holy  Koman  Empire,  everything 
considered,  was  not  so  exorbitant  after  all. 

My  readers  who  have  pursued  with  me,  in  previous 
chapters,  the  fortunes  of  "  the  penniless  Emperor,"  will 
naturally  inquire  how  Maximilian  could  obtain  the  funds 
required  for  so  costly  a  purchase.  Of  his  own,  he  had  nothing 
to  bestow  ;  he  could  only  pledge  his  grandson's  credit ;  and 
German  electors  were  too  well  acquainted  with  the  value  of 
royal  and  imperial  engagements  to  barter  their  votes  for 
empty  promises.  More  than  once  the  imperial  broker  had  to 
urge  upon  his  grandson  his  need  of  remittances ;  more  than 
once  was  the  empire  in  danger  of  falling  into  the  hands  of 
Francis  I.,  wlio,  more  wealthy  and  less  scrupulous  than  liis 
rival,   squaudored   his    treasures    without    present    or   after 


300  THE   REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

thought  of  the  consequences.  Cautious  and  penurious,  even 
where  great  advantages  were  to  be  gained,  Charles  doled  out 
his  gold  in  proportions  more  suited  to  a  village  than  an 
empire.  Already  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  unhke  his  con- 
temporaries, he  possessed  the  virtue  of  prudence  in  perfec- 
tion. He  insisted  that  his  agents  should  incur  no  expenses  in 
the  election,  unless  they  were  certain  of  success  ;  that  no 
elector  should  receive  for  his  vote  more  than  4,000  florins. 
With  bitter  pangs  and  ill-concealed  reluctance  he  placed  to 
the  credit  of  Maximilian  first  100,000  and  then  200,000 
ducats,^  obtained  from  the  bankers  of  Genoa  and  Augsburg. 
From  personal  experience,  better  versed  in  the  ways  of  the 
world,  more  alive  than  most  of  his  contemporaries  to  the 
influence  of  bribery,  Maximilian  remonstrated.  "If,"  said 
he,  "  you  wish  to  gain  mankind,  you  must  play  at  a  high 
stake.  Either  then  follow  my  counsel  and  adopt  my  sugges- 
tions, or  abandon  the  chance  of  bringing  this  affair  to  a 
termination  satisfactory  to  our  wishes,  and  creditable  to  our 
fame.  It  would  be  lamentable  if,  after  so  much  pain  and 
labor  to  aggrandize  and  exalt  our  house  and  our  jDOsterity,  we 
should  now  lose  all  through  some  pitiful  omission  or  penurious 
neglect." 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  happiness  and  bustle,  scheming, 
intriguing,  and  corrupting,  Maximilian  died  suddenly  at  Welz 
in  Upper  Austria,  "  vanquished  with  sickness,  which  was  first 
a  catarrh,  and  sithence  a  flux  and  a  fever  continual."^ 

The  new  world,  under  younger  masters,  with  new  notions 
and  untrained  energies,  was  now  rapidly  drifting  away  from 
the  old.  The  grasp  of  the  old,  destined  to  fade  away,  became 
every  day  feebler.  Time,  the  greatest  of  innovators,  had 
altered  the  relative  positions  of  the  three  rulers  of  Christen- 
dom, At  the  death  of  Maximilian,  Henry  VIII.  was  in  his 
28th  year,  Francis  I.  in  his  25th,  Charles  in  his  19th.  All 
were  equally  ambitious,  all  nearly  equally  powerful,  and 
all  equally,  though  in  different  ways,  greedy  of  personal 
distinction.     Yet  to   command  the   applause   of  the   age  it 

*  See   III.    27.     Spinelly  is   more  and  make  no  difficulty  of  coming  to 

precise  :    "  Armestoril  is   gone  to  the  Frankfort.     The  king  is  also  bound  to 

Emperor  with  bills  of  exchange  to  the  make  good  to  the  electors  a  pension  of 

value  of  250,000  ducats,  payable  1st  70,000   florins    of    gold    during   their 

April    next.      The    merchants     have  lives.     The   town   of    Antwerp   is   to 

promised     that     the      Fuggers,     the  answer  for  the  same,"  etc.     Jan.  20, 

Hochstetters,  or  Welzers,  shall  answer  1519  (III.  36). 

the   same  in  February  next,  that  the  *  Knight,  Jan.  14,  1519;  III.  25. 

electors  may  be  sore  of  their  money, 


1519.]  THE   NEW   ORDER.  301 

was  still  indispensable  that  they  should  be,  or  seem  to  be, 
the  champions  of  the  Church.  Francis  I.  was  its  dearest  and 
its  eldest  son.  Who  more  ready  than  he  to  draw  the  sword  in 
its  defence  ?  Was  it  to  pursue  the  heretic  and  the  infidel  to 
the  furthest  verge  of  Ind, — was  it  to  sluice  out  his  blood  and 
treasure  at  the  bidding  of  his  Holiness, — none  more  prompt 
than  he,  even  when  he  was  invading  the  patrimony  of  the 
Church,  or  tm-ning  a  wistful  eye  to  an  alliance  with  the  Turk. 
As  for  Charles,  it  had  always  been  the  special  glory  of  the 
kings  of  Castile  to  maintain  the  honour  and  orthodoxy  of  the 
Chm'ch,  with  a  devotion  that  knew  no  doubts,  and  a  zeal  which 
overlooked  all  difficulties.  The  maintenance  of  the  Faith  was 
as  essentially  associated  m  the  minds  of  all  men  with  the 
imperial  dignity,  as  the  iron  crown  of  the  Lombards  or  the 
coronation  robe  of  Charlemagne.  Yet,  when  his  interests 
required  it,  the  Catholic  King  was  unable  to  distinguish 
heretics  fi'om  Catholics,  though  they  sprang  up  like  tares 
among  the  wheat,  in  every  corner  of  his  Flemish  dominions. 
More  zealous  and  devout  than  either,  with  something  of 
English  earnestness  and  sincerity,  and  something  perhaps  of 
the  narrow  and  impetuous  energy  of  English  prejudice,  Henry 
signalized  his  attachment  to  the  Faith  by  drawing  his  pen  in 
its  defence.  If  his  arguments  were  mean,  his  Latin  was 
kinglike.  It  was  so  far  above  the  level  of  royal  Latinity  that 
people  gave  out  (I  shall  have  to  consider  with  what  degree  of 
justice)  that  whilst  the  King  furnished  the  arguments,  Fisher 
and  Pace  supplied  or  furbished  up  the  Latin.  Whatever 
honom^s,  as  conquerors  or  crusaders,  the  Kings  of  England 
might  have  achieved,  they  had  never  attained  the  proud 
eminence  of  being  styled  "  Most  Christian "  or  **  Most 
Catholic."  They  had  never  yet  attained  the  standard  of  zeal 
and  ability  in  defence  of  the  Faith,  when  popes  and  cardinals 
could  acknowledge  their  services,  and  reward  them  with  corre- 
sponding distinction  and  gratitude.  That  achievement  was 
reserved  for  Henry  VIII.  Of  his  own  spontaneous  and  mere 
motion,  unsolicited  by  popes  or  nuncios,  he  overwhelmed  the 
new  Titan  of  heresy ;  buried  him  under  a  mountain  of  royal 
theology  and  invective,  never  to  rise  again  ; — so  at  least  popes 
and  bishops  assured  him,  and  he  was  willing  to  believe.  The 
joy  of  Leo  was  unbounded  ;  for  he  was  at  that  time  in  hope 
(vain  hope  !)  or  recruiting  an  exhausted  exchequer  by  a  new 
loan  from  England.  Latin  dictionaries,  Ciceronian  vocabu- 
laries, styles   and  titles,  were  diligently  examined ;   various 


302  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

epithets  proposed  and  rejected.  After  months  spent  in 
dehberation,  Henry,  the  new  candidate  for  spiritual  honours, 
was  admitted  into  the  narrow  and  exchisive  orbit  of  the 
Church's  patrons.  "  Defender  of  the  Faith  "  was  nearly  as 
superlative,  if  not  quite,  as  "  Catholic  "  and  "  Most  Christian," 
and  was  regarded  with  jealousy  by  the  monopolists  and 
admirers  of  the  earlier  distinctions. 

To  an  inexperienced  eye,  judging  by  the  extent  of  his 
dominions,  Charles  would  have  appeared  the  most  powerful 
and  the  most  considerable  monarch  in  Christendom.  At  the 
death  of  Maximilian  he  held  the  Low  Countries,  Burgundy, 
Naples,  Sardinia,  and  the  archduchy  of  Austria.  By  the  dis- 
coveries of  Columbus  and  of  others,  the  New  World  was 
pouring  into  his  lap,  as  King  of  Spain,  its  unsunned  and 
exhaustless  treasures.  One  sister  was  married  to  the  King  of 
Hungary,  another  to  the  King  of  Portugal,  and  a  third  to  the 
King  of  Denmark.  To  his  enormous  possessions  he  was  soon 
to  annex  the  Crown  of  the  Empire.  But  overgrown  empires, 
like  overgrown  men,  more  for  show  than  for  use,  are  not 
easily  moved ;  and  by  a  kindly  law  of  nature  the  mischief 
they  are  most  capable  of  doing  is  counteracted  by  their 
habitual  inertness,  not  to  say  insensibility.  The  cataracts 
and  earthquakes  of  the  world  are  not  half  so  dangerous  as  the 
dripping  water,  the  narrow  crevice,  or  the  sightless  Lilliputian 
of  the  coral  reef.  So,  with  all  his  diffluent,  sinewless,  and 
ill-jointed  dominions,  Charles  was  more  formidable  in  appear- 
ance than  reality.  National  jealousies  prevented  unity  of 
action.  Favours  shown  to  Flanders  were  resented  by  Spain  ; 
residence  in  one  part  of  his  dominions  was  a  signal  for  mutiny 
and  discontent  in  another.  Had  he  attempted  in  his  youth  to 
have  made  all  the  clocks  of  the  sixteenth  century  strike  in 
unison  he  would  not  have  found  it  a  more  difficult  task  than  to 
insure  harmonious  co-operation  between  Spaniard,  German, 
Fleming,  and  Italian.  So  the  restless  activity  of  Francis  I., 
backed  by  his  compact  dominions,  was  always  a  match  for 
Charles ;  would  have  been  more  than  a  match,  had  Francis 
not  despised  his  sallow,  gouty,  and  phlegmatic  rival — slow  as 
fate,  but  like  fate  pertinacious.  With  territory  less  extensive, 
the  King  of  England  possessed  more  available  treasures  than 
either  of  his  rivals.  For  years  the  precious  metals  had  flowed 
into  our  shores  in  a  steady  current,  which  had  never  ebbed. 
As  no  plate  or  coin  was  permitted  to  pass  the  English  ports, 
as  the  industry  and  frugality  of  the  people  had  always  been 


1519.]  THE   STRUGGLE   FOR   EMPIRE.  303 

uniutermittent,  as  they  bad  for  centuries  escaped  the  storm 
of  foreign  invasion,  money  and  money's  worth  were  abundant. 
Then,  as  now,  foreigners  regarded  with  envy  and  amazement 
the  well-stored  goldsmiths'  and  jewellers'  shops  in  the  city  o1^ 
London ;  then,  as  now,  if  foreign  states  wanted  a  loan,  their 
eyes  were  turned  towards  England.  Lance-knights,  men-at- 
arms,  Swiss  volunteers,  Flemish  and  German  artillerymen, 
the  most  experienced  freebooters  and  captain  adventurers,  rose 
to  the  sight  of  English  gold.  "  Only  promise  to  pay,"  said 
the  Italian  or  Almain  banker  to  the  English  agent ;  and  his 
promise  was  better  than  the  bond  of  an  Emperor. 

When  Maximilian  died,  and  open  competition  for  the 
imperial  crown  was  no  longer  restrained  by  affectation  of 
reserve,  "  the  attention  of  all  Europe,"  in  the  words  of  a 
modern  historian,  was  fixed  upon  the  contest.  In  the  grand 
indefiniteness  of  the  phrase  we  are  aj)t  to  lose  sight  of  the 
special  significance  of  the  fact.  All  Europe  proceeded  not 
merely  to  fix  its  attention,  but  if  possible  to  fill  its  pockets 
and  reap  its  advantage  from  the  coming  struggle.  Happily, 
by  the  late  alliance  between  France  and  England,  no  war  was 
then  on  foot  to  gratify  the  cupidity  of  those  roving  adventurers, 
who,  in  their  thirst  for  plunder,  sold  their  blood  for  drachmas, 
and  hacked  out  a  precarious  subsistence  by  the  sword.  Swiss 
and  lance-knight,  hunger-starved  for  some  new  scene  of  action, 
turned  their  eyes  and  their  footsteps  to  Germany.  For  these 
soldiers  of  fortune  the  imperial  election  was  a  Camacho's 
wedding,  where  money  and  provisions  abounded,  and  claims 
for  service  were  not  too  narrowly  scrutinized.  Thither  flocked 
the  maimed,  the  halt,  and  the  blind — in  character,  conduct, 
and  principles.  Itinerant  chieftains  like  Sickingen,  command- 
ing a  handful  of  resolute  and  not  over-scrupulous  followers, 
undaunted  negociators  not  too  delicate  or  too  squeamish, 
thriftless  patriots  eager  for  the  freedom  and  independence  of 
election,  there  found  what  they  never  would  have  found  in 
purer  and  more  peaceable  times,  corruption  and  employment. 
Impartial  in  their  favours,  the  electors  took  bribes  from  both 
candidates,  made  the  same  promises  to  both,  and  broke  them 
to  both  with  magnanimous  indifference.  To  secure  them  the 
unbiassed  exercise  of  their  important  functions,  Charles  had 
raised  a  considerable  body  of  Swabians.  He  had  contrived  to 
detach  Sickingen  from  the  service  o^  his  rival  by  a  pension  of 
3,000  florins.  With  six  hundred  cavaliers  in  the  pay  of  the 
King   Cathohc,    this    daring    adventurer    advanced    towards 


304  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

Wurtemberg,  and,  uniting  his  forces  with  the  League,  was 
ready  at  any  moment,  if  need  were,  to  secure  the  impartiahty 
of  the  distressed  Electors  by  falling  sword  in  hand  on  the 
partizans  of  the  French  monarch.  The  approaches  leading 
to  Frankfort  were  crowded  with  expectant  couriers,  anxious 
canvassers,  disinterested  soldiers.  Troops  of  rival  negociators, 
followed  by  brilliant  escorts,  hurried  to  and  fro  ;  trains  of 
sumpter  mules,  laden  with  coin  stuffed  in  their  pack-saddles, 
plunged  and  struggled  along  the  dusty  roads.  Supple  agents, 
with  obsequious  looks,  haunted  the  chambers,  mounted  the 
barges,  and  watched  the  countenances  of  the  Electors.  Ee- 
tailers  of  small  gossip  found  a  ready  welcome,  and  reaped  a 
rich  harvest  from  the  idle  credulity  of  their  listeners.  Charles 
and  Francis  were  alike  determined  to  obtain  possession  of  the 
imperial  crown  ;  both  had  resolved  to  spare  no  cost  in  securing 
their  object.  Never  had  there  been  so  much  animation  in 
Germany. 

As  a  consequence  of  this  obstinate  competition,  the  cost  of 
the  imperial  crown  rose  in  the  market.  The  Archbishop  of 
Mayence,  formerly  content  with  52,000  florins  and  a  few 
trifles  in  addition,  now  demanded  120,000.  The  Elector  of 
Brandenburg,  "the  father  of  all  greediness,"  as  the  Austrians 
called  him,  would  accept  nothing  less  than  100,000  gold 
crowns,  with  the  hand  of  the  infanta  Katharine,  30,000  crowns 
for  his  vote,  "  and  a  good  round  sum  besides."  ^  The  Arch- 
bishop of  Cologne  and  the  Count  Palatine  followed  in  the 
steps  of  the  Archbishop  of  Mayence.  The  projects  of  Maxi- 
milian were  scattered  to  the  winds.  The  stipulations  he  had 
exacted  were  disregarded.  The  Electors  pretended  that  they 
were  absolved  from  their  promises  by  the  death  of  the 
Emperor.     It  was  requisite  to  commence  de  novo. 

Francis  I.,  as  I  have  said,  determined  to  spare  no  efforts 
to  win  over  the  Electors.  He  told  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  the 
English  ambassador,  that  his  realm  was  worth  six  millions 
yearly,  "  and  he  would  spend  three  millions  of  gold  but  he 
would  be  Emperor."  ^  More  prudent  and  old-fashioned  than 
his  master,  the  President  Guillart  appealed  to  that  chivalrous 
sense  of  magnanimity  which,  notwithstanding  his  numerous 
failings,  still  lurked  in  the  breast  of  the  French  monarch.  It 
would  be  his  glory  and  honour,  he  told  the  King,  to  abstain 
from  force  or  bribery  in  gaining  the  empire  :   it  was  more 

1  De  Berghes  to  Margaret,  Feb.  16,  in  Le  Glay. 

2  Feb.  28  :  III.  100. 


1519.]  THE   STRUGGLE   FOR   EMPIRE.  305 

noble  to  rely  on  the  brilliant  attractions  of  his  power  and  the 
merits  of  his  person.  "If,"  replied  Francis,  "I  had  to  deal 
only  with  the  virtuous,  or  with  those  who  even  pretended  to  a 
shadow  of  virtue,  your  advice  would  be  expedient  and  honest ; 
but  in  times  like  the  present,  whatever  a  man  sets  his  heart 
upon,  be  it  the  papacy,  be  it  the  empire,  or  anything  else,  he 
has  no  means  of  obtaining  his  object,  except  by  force  or 
corruption.  The  men  with  whom  I  have  to  deal  don't  mince 
mouths  in  this  matter.  Long  since,  had  Maximilian  been 
alive,  the  money  demanded  for  the  bargain  would  have  been 
ready  for  delivery  at  all  the  banks  of  Germany."^ 

Fully  alive  to  the  sentiments  of  their  master,  and  armed 
with  plenary  authority,  the  agents  of  Francis  spared  no 
expense,  no  promises,  no  labour,  in  accomplishing  his  wishes. 
The  Electors  were  to  be  gained  at  any  cost.  Four  of  the 
number  listened  readily  to  his  flattering  proposals,  offering  to 
abandon  their  previous  engagements,  and  pledge  their  votes 
and  interests  to  France.  The  hand  of  the  Princess  Renee,  a 
dowry  of  200,000  crowns,  and  an  annuity  of  12,000  florins 
secured  the  Elector  of  Brandenburg.  More  moderate  than  his 
brother,  the  Archbishop  of  Mayence  was  content  with  120,000 
florins,  payable  in  two  moieties  the  same  year,  the  erection  of 
a  church  at  Halle,  a  perpetual  legateship,  and  the  effectual 
support  of  the  future  Emperor  in  all  his  claims  and  privileges. 
Soft  and  irresolute,  the  Elector  of  Cologne  was  oi3en  to  terms, 
but  would  make  ho  promises.  The  Count  Palatine  avowedly 
reserved  himself  for  the  highest  bidder.  Francis  was  not  so 
far  from  the  attainment  of  his  hopes  as  his  opponents  wished 
to  have  it  believed. 

The  agents  of  Charles  began  to  despair.  The  Spaniards 
were  as  slow  as  the  French  were  energetic.  "Would  it  not  be 
better,  they  said,  for  the  King  Catholic  to  end  the  dispute  by 
waiving  his  claim  in  favour  of  his  brother  Ferdinand  ? 
Charles  never  hesitated  for  a  moment :  his  pride  was  touched 
by  this  allusion  to  his  brother  ;  no  stronger  incentive,  perhaps, 
could  have  been  suggested  for  rousing  him  to  unusual  energj^ 
He  replied  with  dignity,  and  with  some  animation,  that  such 
a  course  would  be  ruinous  to  his  brother's  interests  and  his 
own.  It  would,  he  said,  dismember  the  countries  and 
seignories  of  Austria,  sow  disunion  between  them,  sever  into 
its  component  elements  the  mighty  trunk  of  that  power  which 

'   Qnotc!d  by  Mignot  from  the  original  despatch,  Feb.  7,  Eovue  ties  Deux 
Mondcs,  Jan.,  1854,  p.  234. 

VOL.  I.  X 


306  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

both  of  them  had  derived  from  their  ancestors.  Their  union, 
like  arrows  in  the  quiver,  was  their  strength ;  disunited,  the 
shafts  would  be  broken,  and  their  combined  authority 
destroyed. 

Fortunately  for  Charles,  he  possessed  two  active  and  subtle 
negociators,  whom   no  difficulties   could  daunt,  no  repulses 
dismay, — De  Berghes  and  Armestorff.      "  If,"  said  the  former 
to  Lady  Margaret,  "  I  and  Renner  had  served  God  as  we  have 
served  the  King,  we  might  have  hoped  for  a  good  place  in 
Paradise."     De  Berghes  was  indefatigable  ; — nothing  escaped 
him,  no  disappointments  soured  him.     He  saw  it  was  not  the 
time  to  be  scrupulous,  letting  I  dare  not  wait  upon  I  would. 
"  If  something  be  not  done,  and  done  speedily,"  he  writes  on 
one  occasion  to  Lady  Margaret,  "this  Bastard  of  Savoy — (an 
agent  for  Francis) — will  come  down  upon  us  with  a  full  purse 
and  a  pompous  train,  and,  preaching  up  the  faith  of  Anti- 
christ, will  turn  away  many  from  the  orthodox  to  the  French 
creed.     The  plague  of  avarice  is  as  dominant  here  as  else- 
where."    A  week  after  he  hints  to  her  that  if  a  thousand  horse 
were  sent  to  the  League,  it  would  prove  a  great  security  to  the 
Electors  on  the  Rhine,  who  were  desirous  of  knowing  what  aid 
they  should  have  if   they  were   attacked  by  Francis.      The 
danger  was  little  else  than  imaginary ;  not  so  the  effect  of 
such  a  demonstration  on  the  minds  of  the  Electors.     "  If,"  he 
adds,  "  the  King  of  France  should  resort  to  violence,  Charles 
could  make  use  of  the  League  to  further  his  election,  bon  gre 
mal  gre,  as  has  been  done  on  other  occasions."     With  keen 
perception  of  the  decorous  conventionalities  to  be'  observed  in 
these  delicate  negociations,  and  as  bold  a  determination  to 
violate  them  if  necessary,  De  Berghes  informed  her  :  "  Those 
who  are  sent  to  the  electors,  especially  to  the  churchmen, 
must  on  no  account  insist  on  the  bonds  and  promises  given  by 
them  to  the  late  Emperor.     These  birds  are  not  to  be  caught 
in  that  fashion  ;  for  the  election  is  free.     On  the  contrary  they 
must  say  that  they  trust  that  messieurs  the  Electors  will  bear 
in   mind   the   arrangements   made    at   the   last   diet   by  the 
Emperor  and  continue  their  good  wishes  to  the  King  Catholic, 
who  will  in  no  wise  fail  to  keep  his  word." — "  But  on  no 
account  must  any  attempt  be  made  to  obtain  written  pledges 
from  the  Electors  ;  for  they  wish  to  have  it  publicly  believed 
that  they  are  wholly  unfettered  in  their  choice."     It  may  be 
doubted  whether  four  centuries  of  hard  practice  in  electioneer- 
ing have  much  improved  on  the  principles  or  procedure  of  De 


1519.]  THE   STRUGGLE   FOR   EMPIRE.  307 

Berghes  in  this  respect.  "Money,"  he  says,  "must  be  had 
from  the  Welzers  "  (the  Eothschilds  of  the  Middle  Ages)  ; 
"hard  cash  in  gold  at  the  diet."  "In  this  affair  of  the 
empire  we  must  not  haggle  at  any  fixed  sums.  Fresh  dis- 
bm-sements  of  money  will  constantly  be  required,  as  these 
devils  of  Frenchmen  scatter  gold  in  all  directions."  ^ 

On  the  other  side,  Armestorff  was  not  less  dexterous  and 
assiduous  than  De  Berghes.  The  hinge  of  the  negociation 
evidently  turned  on  the  Archbishop  of  Mayence ; — if  he  could 
be  secured,  the  Elector  of  Cologne  would  offer  no  obstacle. 
"  If  we  can  get  these  three,"  wrote  Armestorff  to  Charles, 
"  (Mayence,  Cologne,  and  Palatine,)  in  good  trim,  the  fourth 
(the  Marquis  of  Brandenburg)  will  not  abandon  them,  for  fear 
of  forfeiting  his  share  of  the  spoils."  So  night  and  day  he 
set  all  his  faculties  to  work  to  gain  the  Archbishop  of  Mayence  ; 
as  if,  to  use  his  own  expression,  "the  salvation  of  his  soul 
depended  upon  it."  On  the  27th  of  February  he  arrived  at 
Mayence. 

But  the  Archbishop — Luther's  primate,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered— was  not  easily  gained.  He  knew  his  own  value  ;  he 
knew  also  that  he  could  dictate  his  own  terms  to  France, 
however  exorbitant.  It  was  in  vain  that  Armestorff  besought 
him  to  renew  his  ancient  engagements  made  with  Maxi- 
milian ;  the  Elector  replied  that,  as  the  requisite  stipulations 
had  not  been  observed  by  Maximilian,  these  obligations  had 
ceased  to  be  binding.  To  every  offer  from  Armestorff  he 
turned  a  deaf  ear ;  he  undervalued  the  power  and  popularity 
of  Charles.  His  efforts  to  obtain  the  imj)erial  crown,  he 
asserted,  would  be  fruitless. 

Undaunted  by  this  frigid  reception,  and  the  ill  success  of 
his  mission,  Armestorff  begged  permission  to  speak  unre- 
servedly.^ "  I  see,"  he  said  to  the  Archbishop,  "  that  our 
opponents  have  made  you  more  advantageous  offers  than  we 
have  done,  and  for  that  reason  you  wish  to  break  your  engage- 
ments. Such  a  course  will  entail  infamy  on  you  and  your 
l)rother,  and  inflict  irreparable  injury  on  the  empire  and  the 
whole  Germanic  nation."     The  Archbishop  coldly  admitted 

'  We  learn  from  tlio  Bame  apcnt  "  No  one,"  says  Do  Berghes,  "  will 
that  the  Duke  of  Saxony  was  resolved  have  Joachim  King  of  the  Romans  ; 
to  oppose  Francis  to  the  utmost,  for  he  is  an  intemperate  man,  with 
because  ho  had  promised  in  case  of  whom  no  one  likes  to  have  any  deal- 
success  to  make  the  Marquis  of  Bran-  ings." 

denburg   his  lieutenant,   and  the  two  ^  Mignet,  ut  supra,  p.  241. 

Electors  were  opposed  to  each  other.  f 


308  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

that  be  had  received  much  more  tempting  offers  from  the 
other  side,  and  made  no  scruple  of  avowing  his  intention  to  be 
sure  of  his  bargain  before  he  gave  his  vote.  The  choice  of  the 
Emperor  rested,  he  said,  exclusively  with  himself;  for  his 
colleagues  would  adopt  his  counsels,  and  follow  his  example. 
If  Charles  wished  to  succeed,  he  must  add  100,000  florins  to 
those  already  promised,^  or  take  the  consequences  if  he  refused. 

Armestorff  started  with  astonishment  at  the  enormity  of 
this  new  demand.  In  a  fit  of  resentment,  real  or  affected,  he 
flung  himself  out  of  the  chamber.  The  Elector  and  his 
brother,  he  exclaimed,  were  binding  a  rod  for  their  own  backs, 
and  the  vengeance  of  Heaven  would  overtake  them.  His 
remonstrance  was  not  without  effect.  Though  fond  of  money, 
like  most  of  his  German  contemporaries,  and  unwilling  to  let 
so  excellent  an  opportunity  escape  him,  the  Archbishop  con- 
sidered that  a  smaller  sum,  with  Charles  for  his  sovereign, 
was  a  safer  and  more  eligible  investment  than  a  larger  sum 
from  Francis,  coupled  with  the  indignation  of  his  countrymen. 
Next  morning,  sending  his  valet  de  chambre  to  Armestorff,  he 
offered  to  abate  his  demand,  first  to  80,000,  and,  when  that 
was  refused,  to  60,000,  and  finally  to  50,000  florins.  Arme- 
storff replied,  he  had  no  power  to  accept  the  offer,  but  he 
would  write  to  his  master  for  further  instructions.  The  Arch- 
bishop, however,  declined  to  wait ;  the  rest  of  the  electors,  he 
said,  as  well  as  himself,  were  determined  to  come  at  once  to  a 
final  decision,  and  he  did  not  intend  to  fall  between  two  stools. 
Driven  to  bay,  Armestorff  ventured  to  exceed  his  authority ; 
he  promised  the  Archbishop  an  augmentation  of  the  original 
bargain,  provided  that  he  would  keep  the  negociation  secret, 
and  induce  the  other  electors  to  adhere  to  their  original 
arrangements.  After  an  obstinate  debate  of  three  days  this 
additional  douceur  was  settled  at  20,000  florins. 

The  Archbishop  had,  probably  from  the  first,  contemplated 
a  great  reduction  in  his  original  demand.  For  whatever 
might  have  been  his  personal  wishes,  or  however  for  the  sake 
of  his  own  interests  he  might  intrigue  wdth  France,  he  must 
have  been  convinced  that  the  people  of  Germany  would  never 
consent  to  accept  Francis  for  their  Emperor.  "  It  was 
declared  here  "  (that  is,  by  the  Spaniards  at  Cologne),  says 
Pace,^  "that  as  far  as  the  sun  doth  exceed  all  other  stars  in 
glory,  so  far  their  King  (Charles)  doth  excel  all  other  princes ; 
and  for  that  cause  he  was  meet  to  be  Emperor."     To  which, 

1  That  is,  152,000  florins  of  gold  in  all.  ^  m  274. 


1519.]  THE   STRUGGLE  FOR   EMPIRE.  309 

"  answer  was  made  here,  that  the  sun  was  not  always  above 
the  earth,  but  below  it."  "  The  electors,"  he  adds,  "are  in 
great  perplexity;  for  this  nation  will  have  no  French  Emperor." 
In  fact,  had  the  election  been  declared  in  favour  of  the  French 
monarch,  it  is  probable  that  the  Swiss,  the  Swabian  League, 
and  a  large  portion  of  the  population  would  have  been  prepared 
to  decide  the  question  by  arms,  in  a  manner  more  agreeable 
to  their  own  views  and  wishes.-^ 

When  the  Archbishop  had  thus  eased  his  breast,  he  was 
not  merely  as  good  as  his  word ;  he  was  far  better.  He 
unlocked  his  cabinet ;  he  showed  Armestorff  all  the  letters  he 
had  received  from  the  opposite  party,  and  the  advantageous 
offers  contained  in  them.  In  the  excess  of  his  candour,  he 
discovered  to  the  imperial  agent  the  practices  of  Francis  with 
the  other  Electors,  of  which  he  was  the  prime  confidant  and 
'  depository.  As  if  this  exhibition  of  good  will  had  not  been 
sufficient,  with  the  zeal  and  ardour  of  a  new  convert  he 
employed  his  most  urgent  endeavours  to  bring  over  the  Elector 
of  Brandenburg  to  his  own  views.  He  besought  him  to  consider 
the  danger  and  disgrace  they  should  both  incur  if  they  suffered 
the  imperial  crown  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  an  alien.  He 
pretended  the  most  disinterested  motives  for  his  late  conver- 
sion, resolved  that  no  other  Elector  should  reap  the  same 
benefit  as  himself  of  a  private  arrangement.  But,  in  his  efforts 
to  convert  the  Marquis  of  Brandenburg,  he  was  in  danger  of 
being  reconverted  himself  to  the  cause  he  had  so  recently 
abandoned.  The  Marquis  refused  to  entertain  the  Arch- 
bishop's notions  of  devotion  to  German  interests;  he  had 
pledged  himself,  he  said,  to  Francis,  and  could  not  in  honour 
recede.  When  Armestorff*  returned  to  Mayence  at  the  end  of 
March,  for  a  final  ratification  of  their  arrangement,  he  found 
the  fickle  Archbishop  half-inclined  to  abandon  it.'^  Once  again 
he  had  the  same  difiiculties  to  surmount,  the  same  demands 

'  See  III.  213,  258.     Fleuranges,  know   anything  of  tlie  rosolnte   and 

who    had    been    sent    by    Francis    to  daring    recklessness    of     Francis    of 

manage  the  election,  attributes  his  ill  Sickingen,  who  commanded  the  band, 

success  to  the  failure  of  Francis  I.  in  will  not  think  this  statement  likely  to 

securing    the    Swabian    League.      lie  be  overcharged. 

states    that    the    band,    consisting    of  On  the  27th  of  March,  Julius  Card. 

20,000  foot  and  4,000  horse,  was  posted  de  Medici    writes   to    Caid.    Kibiena, 

only  three  or  four  leagues  distant  from  that  Francesco  Secchino  (Sickingen) 

Frankfort  at  the  time  of  the  election  ;  had  made  an  offer  to  the  Emperor  "  to 

and  its  proximity  had  such  an  effect  do  whatever  his  Majesty  should  com- 

on  the  Count  Palatine  that,  contrary  mand    him    iu    Geriiiiuiy." — Lett,    di 

to  his  promise  and  intention,  he  gave  Princi[)i,  i.  OH. 
his  vote  to  Charles  (Ch.  6C).     All  who  *  See  Le  Glay,  ii.  376. 


310  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

to  combat.  In  the  end  the  Archbishop  was  a  considerable 
gainer.  "  I  have  no  faith  in  that  Archbishop  of  Mayence," 
said  Louise  of  Savoy  to  Boleyn,  the  English  ambassador  ;  and 
most  men  will  agree  in  her  estimate  of  his  consistency. 

In  the  midst  of  these  intrigues  a  new  competitor  appeared 
upon  the  stage  in  the  person  of  Henry  VIII.  But  for  the 
evidence  fui-nished  by  the  letters  and  instructions  of  Pace, 
who  was  employed  on  this  occasion,  it  would  have  seemed 
incredible  that  Henry  VIII.  could  have  ever  seriously  enter- 
tained a  design  so  chimerical  and  so  impolitic  ;  still  less  that 
all  his  actions  in  relation  to  it  should  have  been  characterized 
with  unusual  feebleness,  delay,  and  vacillation.  The  news  of 
Maximilian's  death  was  known  in  England  a  month  after. 
As  early  as  the  9th  of  February,^  Boleyn,  then  in  France, 
wrote  to  the  King  of  the  intention  of  Francis  to  become  a 
competitor  for  the  imperial  crown.  "He  bade  me,"  says 
Boleyn,  "  lean  out  at  the  window  with  him,  and  he  would  tell 
me  what  he  had  done  in  it,  and  his  whole  mind."  Francis 
then  proceeded  to  inform  the  ambassador  that  he  had  received 
invitations  from  several  Electors;  had  been  promised  the 
votes  of  four  of  them,  and  was  overjoyed  at  the  aid  offered 
him  by  England,  especially  as  his  brother,  the  King  of 
England  was  not  inclined  to  enter  the  lists.  Again,  in  that 
month,  and  in  the  next,  Charles  had  earnestly  requested  the 
King's  interposition  with  the  Pope,  who  was  supposed  to 
encourage  the  interests  of  the  French  King.  Yet  it  was  not 
until  the  second  week  in  May,  when  the  election  was  already 
virtually  decided,  that  Pace  was  dispatched  into  Germany  to 
advance  the  pretensions  of  his  royal  master.  Was  it  from 
hesitation,  divided  counsels,  or  ill  advice  that  Henry  adopted 
a  line  of  conduct  so  foreign  to  his  character,  so  unlike  the 
resolution  of  his  great  minister  ? 

It  will  be  remembered  that,  on  various  occasions  mentioned 
in  previous  chapters,^  Maximilian  had  offered  to  secure  the 
imperial  crown  for  the  King  of  England.  Keen  observers  like 
Tunstal,  regarding  his  offer  at  its  true  worth,  denounced  it  as 
chimerical ;  even  supposing  that  Maximilian  had  influence 
sufficient  to  fulfil  his  promise,  they  insisted  on  its  impolicy 
and  imprudence.  In  this,  as  in  most  other  political  questions, 
Tunstal  echoed  the  sentiments  of  Wolsey.  But  to  the  King 
the  project  did  not  appear  so  wild  or  so  undesirable  as  their 
cooler   heads   would   have  wished   or   imagined.     Nor   is   it 

'  III.  70.  2  See  pp.  135,  136,  169. 


1519.]  HENRY   YIII.   A   CANDIDATE.  311 

surprising  that  Henry,  in  the  vigour  of  his  youth  and  the 
pride  of  his  power,  should  have  been  fired  with  the  ambition 
of  attaining  "  the  monarchy  of  Christendom."  The  Papacy 
excepted,  the  empire  was  the  highest  honour  to  which  any 
potentate  could  aspire.  Though  little  better  than  an  empty 
title,  though  scarcely  more  than  the  shadow  of  a  great  name, 
destined  speedily  to  become  more  visionary  than  ever,  its 
ancient  traditions  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  romantic 
heart  of  the  middle  ages.^  Its  half  sacred,  half  secular 
dignity,  shrouded  b}^  a  mysterious  and  unsubstantial  grandeur  ; 
its  position  as  the  military  headship  and  supremacy  of  Chris- 
tendom ;  its  imperial  Bishops  and  regal  princes ;  its  sacred 
knights  and  Teutonic  brotherhoods  ;  its  haunted  forests  and 
weml  mountains ;  had  all  combined  to  captivate  the  imagina- 
tions of  men.^  Hoary  with  the  frost  of  ages,  it  towered  in 
gigantic  proportions  above  all  the  monarchies  of  the  world, 
and  its  head  was  lost  among  the  clouds  of  heaven.  Nor  can 
it  be  doubted  that  Pace  himself,  who  had  frequently  visited 
Italy  and  Germany,  and  knew  both  countries  well,  had  fostered 
these  feelings  in  the  mind  of  the  King,  with  whom  he  had  now 
grown  a  favourite.  Wolsey,  suffering  from  dysentery,  was 
often  absent.  Pace,  the  King's  secretary,  always  at  court,  a 
pleasant  and  versatile  companion,  a  wit,  a  scholar,  a  traveller 
of  no  small  observation  and  experience,  was  acquainted  with 
all  the  distinguished  men  and  potentates  of  the  time,  and  had 
visited  every  scene  of  the  drama  on  which  the  attention  of  the 
world  was  just  then  fixed.  By  the  brilliancy  and  charms  of 
his  conversation — qualities  reflected  in  his  correspondence — 
he  had  made  his  society  agreeable  to  More  and  Erasmus. 
He  was,  besides,  a  man  "  of  the  new  learning  ;  "  not  so  strict 
or  so  rigid  as  the  grey-headed  ecclesiastics  whose  rank  or 
office  held  them  about  the  court.  Was  it  surprising  that  he 
should  have  risen  rapidly  into  favour,  that  he  should  have 
been  suspected,  though  unjustly,  of  treading  too  closely  on 
the  heels  of  the  great  minister  ? 

If  it  were  so,  it  was   not   the   only  time  in  which  Pace 
appears  to  have  countenanced  the  King's  wishes,  in  opposition 

'  See  Macchiovelli's  keen  remarks.  Abovcn  alle  nations  in  Pruce. 

Do  Repub.  ii.  19.  In  Lcttowe  had  lio  royced  and  in 

*  Thus   even   Chancer   makes   his  Ruce, 

knij^ht   rid(!  for   his  lord's  wars    into  No    Christen    man    so    oft    of   his 

Lithuania  and  Prussia: —  degree." 

"  Full    ofte  tyme  he  had  the  board  P^ol.  to  Cant.  Tales. 
begun 


312  THE    REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

to  the  judgment  of  Wolsey.  But,  whatever  that  judgment 
might  be,  the  King's  wishes  must  be  obeyed.  At  tiiat  time 
Campeggio  the  Legate,  supposed  to  be  intimately  acquainted 
with  the  Pope's  sentiments,  was  residing  in  England.  To 
discover  the  Pope's  sentiments,  to  secure  if  possible  his  co- 
operation, was  indispensable  to  success.  He  was  supposed  to 
be  unfavourable  to  the  pretensions  of  Charles,  had  even  in- 
structed his  nuncio  in  Germany  to  oppose  his  election  as 
illegal  and  uncanonical.^  He  might  be  secretly  inclined  to 
Francis,  but  he  had  been  heard  to  declare  that  it  w-as  not 
desirable  for  the  good  of  Christendom  that  either  of  these 
princes  should  succeed.^ 

A  letter  addressed  by  Wolsey  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester, 
the  King's  ambassador  in  Eome,  preserved  in  the  Vatican, 
and  published  by  Martene,^  throws  some  light  on  this  obscm-e 
transaction.  It  appears  that  akeady  some  secret  communica- 
tion of  the  King's  wishes  in  regard  to  the  imperial  election 
had  been  made  to  the  Pope  by  Cardinal  Campeggio.  What 
was  the  exact  nature  of  that  communication,  or  how  it  came  to 
the  ears  of  Worcester,  we  are  left  to  guess.  As  it  did  not  suit 
Wolsey's  purpose  to  assume  that  his  correspondent  was  wholly 
unacquainted  with  what  had  passed,  or  reveal  too  much,  his 
expressions  are  studiously  ambiguous.  He  tells  Worcester 
that,  in  consequence  of  the  new  alliance  between  France  and 
England,  neither  he  nor  the  King  thought  it  safe  to  com- 
municate their  wishes  to  his  Holiness  mitil  they  had  first 
clearly  ascertained  his  inclinations.  It  had  been  given  out 
that  Leo  favoured  the  French ;  and  the  rumour  had  been 
amply  confirmed  by  the  conduct  of  the  Papal  nuncio  in 
Germany.  "  Until  we  had  discovered,"  continues  Wolsey, 
"to  which  of  the  two  candidates  his  Holiness  inclined,  we 
could  trust  no  letter  and  no  messenger ;  for  if  it  so  happened 
that  the  Pope  favoured  the  king  of  the  French,  our  designs 
would  have  been  betrayed,  and  occasion  might  have  arisen 
for  impairing  the  present  peace  between  the  two  kingdoms,  to 
the  grievous  injury  of  Christendom."  Now,  he  adds,  as  the 
Pope  and  the  King  are  of  one  mind  touching  this  election, 
they  can  open  their  minds  more  freely,  and  the  negociation 
will  be  carried  on  in  the  usual  channel.^ 

>  See  III.  187, 192, 195,  255.  When  able.      Of    the    imperial    dignity    he 

he  found  opposition  useless,  Leo  altered  says:  "Imperii  dignitas,  cujus  com- 

his  sentiments.  paratione    alias     omnes     sunt     prope 

^  Charles  to  Henry,  April  20, 1519.  modum  nuUae."     But  he  was  speaking 

^  III.  137,  compare  149.  apparently     the     King's     sentiments 

*  The  language  of  Wolsey  is  notice-  throughout  the  letter. 


1519.]  WOLSEY  FINESSES   WITH   THE   POPE.  313 

He  then  proceeds  to  point  out  to  Worcester  the  dangers 
that  would  arise  if  Francis  should  succeed  in  his  pretensions. 
Not  content  -with  his  own  dominions,  he  would,  argues  Wolsey, 
aspire  to  the  monarchy  of  the  woild,  and  trample  the  Papacy 
under  foot.  The  danger  would  scarcely  he  less  if  Charles 
became  Emperor,  for  his  vast  powers  and  overgrown  posses- 
sions would  occasion  many  troubles  in  Christendom.  There- 
fore he  advises  the  Pope  to  keep  an  even  hand  between  the 
two  competitors  ;  and  if,  as  probably  would  be  the  case,  either 
demanded  of  him  letters  in  their  favour,  which  could  not  be 
refused,  he  should  have  recourse  to  dissimulation,  and  let  it 
be  known  among  all  people  that  his  recommendations  were 
merely  formal,  Charles  being  out  of  the  way.  If  the  King  of 
France  could  be  persuaded  to  desist  from  his  pretensions, 
England  and  the  Pope  might  then  combine  and  fix  upon  some 
third  person  equally  agreeable  to  all  parties.  In  making  these 
suggestions  Worcester  was  instructed  to  watch  narrowly  the 
Pope's  countenance,  to  weigh  his  answers,  and  discover,  if 
possible,  his  real  inclinations. 

Up  to  this  point,  Wolsey  had  breathed  no  hint  of  this 
third  unexceptionable  candidate.  It  was  dangerous  ground, 
and  demanded  careful  and  cautious  handling.  Then,  as  if 
the  suggestion  had  proceeded  from  another,  and  not  from 
himself,  he  continues:  "My  most  reverend  lord  Campeggio 
has  submitted  to  me,  that  possibly  our  most  serene  lord  the 
King  might  not  be  disinclined  to  see  some  regard  had  to  his 
own  elevation  (honoris).  He  thinks  some  means  might  be 
devised,  by  which  both  the  king  of  the  French  and  his  Catholic 
Majesty  might  be  prevented  from  obtaining  the  election.  I 
can  draw  only  one  meaning  from  these  words  of  his.  I  suppose 
the  Legate  thinks  that  the  election  might  possibly  be  secured 
in  favour  of  our  King.  If,  then,  you  wish  to  do  a  service 
agreeable  to  his  most  serene  Majesty  and  to  me,  you  will  take 
occasion  to  broach  this  matter  to  his  Holiness,  but  in  such 
a  way  as  if  you  were  entirely  ignorant  of  our  wishes.  When 
you  have  more  clearly  discovered  the  intentions  of  his  Holiness, 
if  you  find  any  firm  foundation  to  go  upon,  it  will  not  be 
inappropriate  in  you  to  remark,  that  you  think  it  would  be 
highly  conducive  to  the  interests  of  Christendom  and  of  the 
Holy  See,  if  his  Majesty  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  undertake 
so  responsible  a  dignity,  for  all  the  King's  endeavours  would 
be  concentrated  on  universal  tranquillity  and  the  good  of 
mankind.     But  you  must  say,  it  is  much  to  be  feared  that  his 


314  THE   EEIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

foresaid  Majesty  -will  in  no  wise  be  prevailed  upon  to  meddle 
in  this  affair,  seeing  that  he  absolutely  refused  the  imperial 
crown  when  it  was  formerly  offered  him  by  Maximilian.  You 
may  then  suggest,  that  possibly,  if  his  Holiness  would  write 
to  me  (Wolsey)  very  earnestly  about  the  matter,  I  might, 
without  any  great  labor,  exhort  and  encourage  the  King  to 
consent  to  his  election,  purely  out  of  his  desire  to  promote 
the  welfare  of  others.  In  handling  this  matter,  marvellous 
dexterity  and  skill  will  be  required.  Therefore,  I  beg  your 
reverend  Lordship  will  give  your  best  attention  to  what  I  have 
said,  and  send  me  an  explicit  answer  to  every  point." 

The  latter  is  dated  the  25th  of  March.  Before  any  answer 
could  arrive,  a  communication  had  been  received  from 
Worcester,  dated  some  days  after,  stating  that  Francis  w^as 
straining  every  nerve  to  secure  the  election ;  that  the  Pope 
found  it  difficult  to  decide  between  both  candidates,  but  was 
strongly  urged  to  support  the  French  King.  He  adds  in  a 
postscript,  that  letters  had  just  come  from  Campeggio,  long 
after  date,  signifying  the  liing's  wish  that  Francis  should  not 
be  elected,  but  the  Pope  thought  it  too  perilous  to  interfere 
oi)enly.^ 

March  ended,  April  passed  away,  and  no  answer  from  the 
PajDal  Court.  At  last  about  the  middle  of  May,  a  communica- 
tion was  received  from  Worcester.  If  he  ever  followed  Wolsey's 
instructions,  the  Pope  held  out  no  expectations  that  he  would, 
openly  or  otherwise,  further  the  project  so  cautiously  sug- 
gested by  the  Cardinal.  He  affected  not  to  see  it,  but  made 
a  merit  of  supporting  the  interest  of  Charles,  as  if  in  so  doing 
he  had  sacrificed  his  own  inclinations  out  of  deference  to  the 
King  and  Wolsey.^ 

Meanwhile,  the  King  and  Wolsey  had  determined  to  send 
Pace  into  Germany,  fm-nished  with  letters  and  instructions 
suitable  to  the  occasion.  He  was  ordered,  in  the  first  instance, 
to  discover  the  temper  of  the  Electors,  and  their  various 
inclinations.  Whenever  "  he  speaketh  with  the  favorers  of 
the  French  King,"  so  run  his  instructions,^  "he   may  use 

*  III.  149.     So  much,  however,  is  Charles.     If   a  third  power  wore  the 

certain  that  Leo  would  have  preferred  imperial  crown  it  would  tend  to  nen- 

any  other  candidate  than  Francis  or  tralize  their   influence,    and   preserve 

Charles.     What  he  might  openly  pro-  an  equilibrium  between  the  great  states 

fess    to    the    ambassadors    of    either  of  Europe  ;  and  by  this  policy  alone 

party   or   their    adherents,    like    the  could  the  Papal  court  hope  to  preserve 

Venetians,  must  not  be  taken  for  his  its  independence, 

real  sentiment.     It  was  for  his  inter-  ^  III.  277. 

est  to  aggrandize  neither  Francis  nor  *  III.  241. 


1519.]  PACE   IN   GERMANY.  315 

words  to  show  the  King's  inclination  to  that  party ;  .  .  .  and 
in  semblable  manner  be  is  to  use  bimself  to  such  of  the 
Electors  as  incline  to  the  Iving  of  Castile's  party ;  so  that  the 
King's  bigbness  be  not  noted  to  favor  or  advance  the  one 
party  more  tban  tbe  otber."  But  on  these  and  on  all  other 
occasions  be  is  to  insinuate  objections  to  tbe  prejudice  of 
both,  and  find  means  "  by  provident  and  circumspect  drifts  " 
to  drive  tbe  Electors  to  choose  Henry,  "which  is  of  the 
Germany  tongue,"  or,  failing  that,  one  of  themselves,  "and 
not  to  translate  the  empire,  which  has  been  in  Germany  seven 
hundred  years,  to  a  strange  nation ;  for  if  it  were  eftsoons  so 
translated,  it  should  never  return  to  them  again."  That  the 
English  envoy  should  be  instructed  to  enlarge  on  the  manifold 
gifts  "  of  grace,  fortune,  and  nature  which  be  in  the  King," 
and  bis  fitness  for  so  great  a  dignity,  is  no  more  than  we 
should  be  prepared  to  expect ;  but  the  other  articles  of  his 
commission  betray  either  a  penuriousness  in  money  matters 
little  to  be  expected,  or  a  most  extraordinary  ignorance  of  the 
true  state  of  the  imperial  negociations.  Though  his  instruc- 
tions are  unfortunately  mutilated,  enough  remains  to  make  it 
clear  that  he  was  forbidden  to  pledge  the  King's  credit  without 
adequate  security.  Provided  the  Electors  would  do  the  King's 
grace  so  much  pleasure  as  to  prefer  him  above  all  other  com- 
petitors, they  should  be  "rewarded  and  recompensed  for  their 
gratitude,"  so  it  exceed  not  the  sum  of  .  .  .  "  But  it  is  the 
King's  pleasure  that  no  communication,  writing  or  instrument 
whatever  shall  pass  his  said  ambassador  but  only  con- 
ditionally ;  that  is  to  say,  should  the  King's  highness  be 
elected  to  that  dignity,  and  really  attain  thereto,  then  to  pay 
such  a  sum  as  shall  be  agreed  betwixt  them."  ^ 

Had  Pace  started  on  his  mission  three  months  earlier, 
had  persuasion  "  sweeter  than  honey  "  sate  upon  his  lips, 
what  hopes  could  he  have  entertained  of  gaining  over  the 
Electors  on  such  conditions  ?  What  arguments  could  counter- 
balance the  solid  coin  of  France  or  Spain,  the  plate  and 
tapestry,  the  golden  ducats  and  substantial  advantages  with 
which  the  two  continental  monarchs  had  for  many  weeks 
dazed  tbe  eyes  and  enslaved  the  wills  of  these  guardians  of 
the  imperial  crown  ?  "  The  English  angels,"  says  Eleuranges, 
in  mockery  of  Pace's  embassy,  "could  not  work  greater  miracles 
than  the  crowns  of  tbe  sun."  But  the  golden  angels  to  which 
he  refers  never  imped  their  wings,  or  displayed  a  feather  of 

'  lil.  240. 


316  THE   REIGN  OP  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

their  lustrous  plumage.  So  Pace's  mission  fared  exactly  as 
might  have  been  expected.  He  was  courteously  but  coldly 
received.  The  Electors  were  evidently  indifferent  to  the  cause 
of  his  master,  especially  as  that  cause  came  recommended 
with  empty  hands.  Pace  flattered  the  King  with  hopes  of 
success.  He  relied  on  the  contradictory  rumours  sedulously 
disseminated  by  interested  parties.  "  No  manner  of  certainty 
can  be  gathered  out  of  them  after  my  judgment,"  he  remarks 
to  Wolsey;!  "but  he  that  shall  come  last,  after  the  great 
practices  passed,  shall  be  in  as  good  and  peradventure  better 
case  than  they  that  came  long  afore."  He  built  his  strongest 
hope  on  the  great  delay  which  some  Fleming  had  assured  him 
must  take  place  before  the  election  was  concluded,  and  was 
disappointed  in  both  his  expectations. 

On  the  Ist  of  June  he  obtained  an  audience  with  the 
Archbishop  of  Cologne,^  just  before  the  Elector  was  starting 
for  Frankfort.  Between  the  1st  and  9th  he  had  an  interview, 
at  Mayence,  with  the  Cardinal  and  his  brother  the  Marquis 
of  Brandenburg,  "  ready  to  go  in  the  morning  to  Frankfort ;  " 
on  the  9th,  with  the  Archbishop  of  Treves,  who  told  him  that 
Henry  was  not  excluded  from  the  election,  and  that  the  late 
Emperor  had  gone  about  to  promote  him.  This  remark  gave 
Pace  an  opportunity  of  enlarging  upon  the  King's  qualities, 
as  expressed  in  his  instructions.  "  Though  he  is  reputed  all 
French,"  says  Pace,^  he  behaved  himself  "like  a  wise  and 
noble  man."  The  interview  finished,  in  conformity  with  the 
ancient  rule.  Pace,  with  all  other  strangers,  was  ordered  to 
withdraw  from  Frankfort.  Five  of  the  Electors  had  arrived 
already.  The  Duke  of  Saxony  was  expected  hourly.  He  had 
declined  the  empire,  which  he  might  have  had  if  he  would, 
says  Pace  ;  so  great  was  the  reputation  of  "his  virtuous  and 
godly  living,  as  of  his  singular  wisdom."  Next  day.  Pace 
wi-ote  again,  insisting  on  the  great  dissension  among  the 
Electors:  the  indignation  of  the  commonalty  against  the 
French  was  incredible  ;  they  would  spend  life  and  goods,  he 
said,  against  that  King  if  he  were  elected.  They  would  have 
preferred  Don  Ferdinand  to  his  brother,  had  theii-  wishes 
been   consulted,   because   they  felt   assured   of  his   residing 


'  III.  255.  brother   to    read,   plainly  confessing 

It  is  amusing  to  find  that  when       "  that  he  had  not  greatly  exercised 


2 


Pace  presented  the    King's   letter  to       the  Latin  tongue."     III.  283. 
the  Archbishop  and  Elector  of  Cologne,  ^  III.  297 

the  Ai'chbishop  handed  it  over  to  his 


1519.]  PACE   FINDS   HE   IS   TOO  LATE.  317 

among  them.  But,  less  careful  of  men's  opinions,  if  not  more 
scrupulous,  than  his  rival,  Charles  had  provided  against  con- 
tingencies. An  army  of  40,000  foot  and  6000  horse  by  his 
own  and  the  late  Emperor's  adherents,  in  the  Rhine  Provinces, 
was  ready  to  march  and  coerce  the  refractory  Electors.^  Pace 
confu'ms  this  statement  on  the  14th,  adding  that  Charles's 
deputies  openly  gave  out  that  if  they  could  not  gain  the 
election  by  fair  means,  they  would  have  it  by  the  sword. 
The  Electors  protested  against  this  apparent  coercion  of  their 
freedom,  and  the  army  was  moved  into  the  duchy  of  Wurtem- 
berg.^  The  election  approached  its  termination  ;  the  utmost 
excitement  prevailed ;  the  wildest  rumours  were  afloat. 
Francis  promised  double  as  much  as  any  other  Christian 
prince  would  give  for  the  empire.  The  agents  of  Charles,  not 
to  be  outdone,  increased  their  biddings  ;  hundreds,  thousands, 
of  florins  j-early  to  each  of  the  electors,  in  addition  to  the 
pensions  already  granted,  on  security  of  the  Spanish  eccle- 
siastics and  nobility.  '"Here  is,"  says  Pace,  "the  most 
dearest  merchandise  that  ever  was  sold ;  and  after  mine 
opinion,  it  shall  be  the  worst  that  ever  was  bought,  to  him 
that  shall  obtain  it."  ^ 

Yet,  in  si)ite  of  the  opinion  thus  sensibly  recorded,  even 
Pace  could  not  resist  the  general  infection.  If  he  had  but 
come  some  fifteen  days  sooner !  If,  like  the  King  of  Castile, 
he  had  brought  420,000  gold  florins  to  Frankfort,  or  sufficient 
security,  Wolsey  by  this  time,  he  says,  "  might  have  sung  a 
Te  Deiim  laudamus  for  the  election  of  King  Henry  VIII.  in 
imperatorem  omnium  Christianorum  !  "  ■*  The  King,  he  goes  on 
to  say,  will  certainly  be  proposed  at  the  election ;  ^  and  the 
question  had  been  asked  him,  whether  he  had  authority  to 
accept  the  empire  eo  7iomine.  He  must  have  betrayed  his 
excitement,  and  left  himself  open  to  this  caustic  joke.  It  is 
needless  to  say,  that  no  such  intention  was  ever  once  enter- 
tained by  any  one  of  the  Electors. 

The  atmosphere  was  impregnated  with  trickery,  deceit,  and 
corruption ;  and  the  most  veteran  craftsmen  in  these  arts 
were  incessantly  employed  in  pursuing  their  ignoble  vocation. 
Application  had  been  made  by  Henry  to  the  Pope  to  inter- 
pose and  delay  the  election.     It  appears  from  one  of  Pace's 

'  Pace,  June  12.  1,500,000 fl. on  the  election.     IH.351. 
2  Pace,  June  22.  "   Pace,  June  20. 

*  Besides  his  other  cnf^af^cmcnts,  °  Pace,  June  14. 

Charles,    according    to    Pace,    spent 


318  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

letters,  written  in  June,  but  of  Tvliicb  the  precise  date  is 
uncertain,  that  his  Holiness  had  consented  to  the  King's 
request,^  and  commanded  his  nuncio,  Carracciolo,  to  act 
accordingly.  But  the  nuncio,  better  informed  of  the  Pope's 
wishes,  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  Pace's  entreaties  ;  ^ — worse  than 
all,  the  Pope,  a  few  days  after,  commanded  his  agent  to  desist 
from  all  further  opposition,  set  on  foot  a  secret  negociation 
for  a  good  understanding  with  the  Catholic  King,^  and,  instead 
of  interposing  delay,  as  he  had  promised,  hurried  on  the 
election.'*  The  Electors  entered  the  consistory  on  the  18th  of 
June.  It  soon  became  manifest  that  the  choice  would  fall  on 
the  King  of  Castile.  Sickingen,  the  most  powerful  and  un- 
scrupulous of  his  partizans,  established  himself  with  his  army 
at  Hochst,  a  few  miles  distant  from  Frankfort,  ready  to  com- 
mence operations  at  the  earliest  notice.  "  There,"  writes  Pace 
on  the  2-J:th,  "  they  cry  open  war  against  the  French  king,  and 
say  they  will  have  no  emperor  but  king  Charles  of  Spain." 
The  Count  of  Nassau,  one  of  their  number,  armed  with  the 
King's  great  seal,  distributed  places  and  offices  broadcast  to 
all  whose  influence  could  in  any  way,  direct  or  indirect, 
conduce  to  success.  These  measures  were  seconded  by 
threats  of  personal  violence.  Bonnivet,  the  most  skilful  and 
active  of  the  French  King's  agents,  was  warned  to  desist  from 
canvassing  any  longer  for  his  master,  on  pain  of  his  life.^ 
"  The  nation  is  up  in  arms,"  says  Pace,  "and  furious  to  fight 
for  the  King  Catholic."  The  day  before  the  Count  of  Nassau 
had  told  him  he  had  so  much  money,  and  so  many  men,  that 
no  Frenchman  could  enter  the  country  "but  upon  spearis  and 
swerdis  poyntes." 

As  the  Electors  had  long  since  made  up  their  minds,  delay 
was  useless.  The  impatience  of  Charles's  partizans,  the  dread 
of  the  plague,^  now  beginning  to  make  its  appearance  at 
Frankfort,  personal  considerations  of  various  kinds,  induced 
the  Electors  gladly  to  lay  hold  of  the  pretext  furnished  them 
by  the  Pope,  and  resolve  on  an  immediate  decision.  To  pre- 
serve the  forms,  though  the  essentials  had  disappeared,  the 
two  sovereigns  were  solemnly  put  in  nomination.  Their 
respective  claims  were  urged  with  all  the  eloquence  of  their 
respective  representatives  ;  those  of  Charles  by  the  Archbishop 

'  III.  308,  353.  of  June ;  and  the  Pope's  excuses  for 

»  Pace,  June  20.  his  couduct,  III.  393. 
3  III.  308.  *  See  Mignet,  itt  supra,  p.  260. 

♦  See  Pace,  10th  of  June  and  21th  «  III,  351. 


1519.]  FRANCIS   HIDES   HIS   RESENTMENT.  319 

of  Mayence,  those  of  Francis  by  the  Archbishop  of  Treves. 
To  create  a  diversion  in  the  ranks  of  the  imperiahsts, 
Frederick,  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  was  put  forward.  He  may 
have  decHned  the  honour  from  patriotic  feehngs,  but  any  man 
of  ordinary  sense  and  virtue  would  have  hesitated  to  accept 
a  position  he  could  not  hope  to  maintain  without  drawing 
down  upon  himself  the  hostility  of  the  three  greatest  powers 
of  Christendom.  The  Duke  rose  to  decline  the  honour.  He 
proffered  his  vote  in  favour  of  Charles,  and  the  great  event 
was  over. 

However  Pace  or  even  Wolsey  might  have  flattered  him- 
self that  their  recent  negociations  in  Germany  had  been 
veiled  in  impenetrable  secrecy,  they  had  not  escaped  the  keen 
and  vigilant  eye  of  Francis  I.  It  is  evident,  from  the  hints 
dropped  by  that  King  and  his  mother,  that  both  were  perfectly 
well  acquainted  with  the  intrigues  set  on  foot  at  the  English 
court  to  impede  his  election.^  Had  Francis  succeeded,  he 
would  undoubtedly  have  shown  his  resentment.  But  the 
friendship  of  England  had  now  become  more  indispensable  to 
him  than  ever.  His  reckless  extravagance  had  rendered  him 
very  unpopular.  The  expenses  incurred  in  his  late  canvass 
had  exhausted  his  treasury.  He  was  compelled  to  resort  to 
unusual  imposts.  On  that  head  the  evidence  of  the  Venetian 
ambassador,  Giustinian,  who  was  just  then  returning  from 
his  mission  to  England,  is  unimpeachable.  He  states  that 
the  French  King  and  his  mother  Louise  were  more  unpopular 

'  Of  course,  Francis  had  been  kept  he  saith,  he  heard  Master  Pace,  in  his 

perfectly  well    informed   of    all   that  oration    that    he  made  unto   the  said 

was  going  on  by  the  admiral  Bonnivet ;  Marquis,  observe  that  none  might  be 

and    Bonnivet   himself    had   come    to  accepted  to  the  dignity  imperial,  that 

the  knowledge  of  Pace's  most  secret  was  not  of  the  nation  or  tongue  Ger- 

communicatioris  with  the  Electors  by  manic,  but  rather  to  be  preferred  one 

an  act  of  treachery  common  enough  of  their  own  princes  of  Almayn.    And, 

in     electioneering    proceedings.       At  finally,   he   heard    him   speak    for  tlio 

Pace's  interview  with  the  Marquis  of  advancement   of   the    King    Catholic, 

Brandenburg  in  the;  town  of  Mayence,  which  ho  thought  sti-ange;  and  further 

of  whicli  an  account  is  given   in   111.  said  that,  forasmuch  as  he  made  this 

290,    Bonnivet    was   secreted    l)ehind  request,  which  lie   hoard,  to  the  mar- 

the   arras.     Months   after,  when    the  quis  of  Brandenburg,  he  is  sure  that 

two   nations    were    linked    ostensibly  he  made  semblable  to  all  other  of  the 

in    the    most    friendly   tics,   Bonnivet  electors."     Such  conduct  was  marked 

told  Sir  Thomas  Jiolcyn,  with  affected  with  more  than  u.sual  ill  faith;  as  not 

I'oiicorn,    "  that    when     Master     Pace  only    had    Ija    Matyo    bocsn    told    that 

vv(!nt     ambassador     to     Almayn,     he  Kngland  had  promised  to  aid  the  cause 

(lionnivet)   was  with  the    marquis  of  of  Francis,  but  Sir  Thos.  Boleyn  had 

Hrandonburg  in  the  town  of  Mayence,  been   instructed    to  assure    the    King 

in  the  said  Marquis's  lodgings,  against  that  his  master  had  laboured  to  i)ro- 

the  great  cliiirf;h  of  our   l^ady,  whore  cure   his  election   initil   his  cause  was 

he  waa  behind  tholapestry;  and  there,  ho2Joless!     See  111.  -iiti  and  oM. 


320  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

all  over  France  than  words  could  express  ;  ^  that  whilst  his 
subjects  were  suffering  under  these  oppressions,  Louise  was 
accused  of  hoarding  money  to  aid  her  son  on  any  sudden 
emergency.  Stern  j)unishment  followed,  though  it  could  not 
stifle  the  murmurs  of  discontent,  or  the  accents  of  fear  goaded 
into  frenzy.  The  people,  says  a  French  correspondent,^  are 
much  enraged  at  the  King's  exactions  ;  of  those  who  remon- 
strated he  has  whipped  one,  and  put  to  death  two.  The  royal 
demesnes  were  heavily  mortgaged,  the  church  plate  pillaged, 
the  nobility  and  gentry  crushed  by  loans  and  benevolences. 
From  the  success  of  Charles,  Francis  had  reason  to  anticipate 
that  all  the  disputes  in  Italy,  Navarre,  and  elsewhere  would 
be  settled  in  favour  of  the  Emperor ;  the  Pope  would  side 
with  the  strongest ;  except  for  the  friendship  of  England,  the 
whole  of  Europe  would  be  confederated  against  him. 

To  the  Venetian,  Giustinian,  he  did  not  scruple  to  betray 
his  real  feelings  towards  Henry  and  his  minister.  Inquiring 
one  day  of  the  ambassador  "  what  sort  of  a  statesman  king 
Henry  made,  Giustinian  endeavored  to  evade  the  question  ; 
for  (he  says),  to  bestow  praise  on  that  score  is  impossible,  whilst 
to  censure  appeared  to  him  unbecoming.  After  a  while,  his 
Majesty  still  pressing  him  repeatedly  on  the  subject,  he  replied 
that  king  Henry  devoted  himself  to  pleasure  and  solace,  and 
left  the  cares  of  state  to  the  Cardinal.  '  By  my  faith,'  rejoined 
Francis,  '  the  Cardinal  must  bear  him  little  good  will ;  for 
it  is  not  the  office  of  a  good  servant  to  filch  his  master's 
honor.'  "  ^ 

But  to  Boleyn,  the  English  ambassador  at  his  court,  his 
language,  dictated  by  policy  or  suggested  by  his  necessities, 
wore  a  different  aspect.  If  Wolsey  would  aspire  to  the 
popedom,  Francis  would  secure  it  for  him  on  the  first  oppor- 
tunity. He  commanded,  he  said,  the  voices  of  fourteen 
cardinals,  and  of  the  whole  Orsini  faction  at  Eome.  Let  but 
the  Kmg  of  England  and  himself  remain  at  one,  and  they 
would  make  popes  and  emperors  at  their  pleasure.^  His 
ministers  re-echoed  the  same  sentiments.  It  had  never  been 
seen  or  heard  "that  one  man,  being  a  cardinal,  had  so  great 
esteem,  trust,  and  reputation  "  with  both  kings,  of  France  and 
England,  as  fell  to  the  fortune  of  Wolsey.^  And  though,  after 
the  untoward  event  of  the  election,  these  flattering  expressions 

»  See  III.  p.  144,  note.  "111.122. 

2  III.  404.  ^  III.  131. 

^  Giustinian's  Despatches,  ii.  p.  318. 


1519.]         OSTENSIBLE   CORDIALITY   TOWARDS   FRANCE.  321 

of  regard  were  not  quite  so  numerous  or  so  cordial  as  before, 
Francis  continued  from  time  to  time  to  assure  the  Cardinal  of 
bis  undiminished  confidence,  and  the  sense  he  entertained  of 
Wolsey's  services.^ 

Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  could  England  very  well  afford,  at 
this  delicate  conjuncture,  to  neglect  an  ally  with  whom  it  was  so 
recently  connected  by  the  strictest  ties  of  amity.  The  marriage 
contract  between  Mary  and  the  Dauphin  still  continued  intact. 
As  an  earnest  of  their  indissoluble  union,  Henry,  in  the  person 
of  Boleyn,  had  stood  sponsor  to  the  second  son  of  Francis  I., 
called  after  his  royal  godfather.^  From  the  spring  of  the 
year  to  its  close,  a  succession  of  proposals  and  negociations 
for  a  personal  interview  had  passed  on  both  sides ;  as  early 
as  the  month  of  March,  a  list  of  persons  appointed  to  attend 
the  King  of  England  at  the  interview  had  been  submitted  to 
the  King  of  France.^  When  the  season  was  so  far  advanced 
that  it  became  necessary  to  defer  the  arrangements  for  the 
present,  Boleyn  informed  Francis  that  his  master  had  resolved 
to  wear  his  beard  until  their  meeting,  as  a  proof  of  his 
unabated  desire  for  the  interview.  "  And  I,"  said  Francis, 
laying  his  hand  upon  his  beard,  in  recognition  of  this  token 
of  affection,  "protest  I  will  never  put  off  mine  until  I  have 
seen  the  king  of  England,"  ^  After  such  repeated  demonstra- 
tions of  unalterable  attachment,  any  sudden  rupture  was  out 
of  the  question.  In  the  opinion  of  Christendom,  it  would  have 
brought  down  on  the  head  of  its  author  indelible  disgrace  ;  an 
opinion  not  to  be  hastily  or  harmlessly  defied.     It  would  have 

1  III.  535,  545,  397,  452,  G66.  I  knew  not  of  it.   I  said  that  Montpesat 

2  June  5, 1519.     See  III.  2S9,  306.  had  been  with  me  at  my  lodgins?,  and 

3  See  III.  118,  122,  131,  416,  488,  told    me   likewise ;    and    [I]    further 
514,  530.  said  that,  as  I  supposed,  it  hath  lieen 

*  III.  416.  Beards  were  apparently  by  the  Queen's  desire;  for  I  told  my 

portentous.     But   in    matters  of   the  Lady,    that    I   have    here-afore   time 

beard,  Henry,  alas!  was  as  faithless  known,  when  the  King's  grace  hath 

as    he    had    been   in    the    more    im-  worn  long  his  beard,  that  the  Queen 

portant  matter  of  the  election ;   and  hath  daily  made  him  great  instance, 

his  faithlessness  was  again  betrayed.  and  desired  him  to  put  it  off   for  her 

When  Montpesat,  one  of  the  French  sake."     Whether  Katharine's  Spanish 

hostages  for  Tournay,  was  allowed  to  gravity  was  affected  by  the  beard,  I 

return     from     England    to    his    own  know  not.    The  apology  was  creditable 

country,  he  seems,   among  other  dis-  to  Boleyn's  powirs  of  invention.     The 

jointed  chat,  to  have  informed  Louise,  excuse  was  sat  isfactory,  or  passed  for 

the    queen   mother,    that    Henry    had  such;  as,  on  farther  assuring   Louise 

infringed  his  vow.     Louise  deemed  it  that  Henry  "  had  greater  alTcclion  for 

of    so    much    importance   as  to  com-  her  son  than  for  any  king  living,  she 

municate  thofact  toBoloyn.      She  told  was    well    appeased,    observing    that 

me,  says  Boleyn,  that  .\iontpesat  had  their  love  was  not  in  their  beards,  bat 

inforrnodhrir  "howthe  King  my  master  in  their  hearts."      HI.  514. 
had  put  off  his  beard,  and  axed  me  if 

VOL.   I.  ^ 


'A22  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VIH.  [AD. 

softened  the  mutual  antagonism  of  Francis  and  the  Emperor, 
and  defeated  the  objects  of  Wolsey's  policy. 

For,  notwithstanding  the  rivalry  between  the  two  con- 
tinental monarchs,  it  was  by  no  means  certain  that  they 
might  not  consent  to  arrange  their  differences,  and  coalesce 
for  their  mutual  interests.  Of  the  real  disposition  of  Charles 
little  was  known  at  that  time  in  England,  and  that  little  did 
not  warrant  Wolsey  in  suj)posing  that  he  would  set  any  great 
value  on  an  English  alliance.  Influenced  wholly  by  his 
Flemish  minister,  Chievres,  who  was  by  extraction  a  French- 
man, and  warmly  devoted  to  French  interests,  what  reason 
could  there  be  for  anticipating  that  a  prince  so  cold  and 
taciturn  would  break  through  the  traditional  policy  he  had 
hitherto  consistently  maintained  ?  In  passing  from  one  of 
his  dominions  to  another  by  sea,  Charles  might  occasionally 
find  it  advantageous  to  enter  an  English  harbour;  beyond 
this — an  advantage  not  needed  if  he  were  on  friendly  terms 
with  France — it  was  hard  to  discover  what  temptation  the 
friendship  of  England  could  offer  him. 

So  the  two  powers  continued  to  maintain  outwardly  the 
most  friendly  relations,  as  if  nothing  had  occurred  to  interrupt 
their  cordiality.  Henry,  at  least  if  Wolsey  may  be  considered 
as  an  adequate  exponent  of  the  King's  sentiments,  still  pro- 
fessed to  feel  the  deepest  interest  in  the  welfare  of  his  French 
ally ;  he  volunteered  the  most  disinterested  advice,  not  always 
indifferent  whether  Francis  followed  or  refused  it.  On  the 
other  side,  Francis  and  his  ministers,  with  the  most  candid 
desire  of  removing  all  causes  of  suspicion  and  misunderstand- 
ing between  the  two  crowns,  did  not  fail  to  call  the  attention 
of  Wolsey  and  his  master  to  every  instance  of  bad  faith,  real 
or  supposed,  into  which  their  double  policy  was  sometimes 
liable  to  betray  them.  To  make  his  own  king  the  mediator 
of  Europe — more  than  Emperor  in  reality,  as  himself  was 
more  than  Pope ;  to  continue  friends  with  the  two  great  rival 
powers  without  offending  either ;  to  keep  both  asunder  by 
filling  their  heads  with  mutual  suspicions  ; — this  was  the  chief 
object  of  Wolsey's  policy.  It  required  considerable  dexterity, 
to  give  it  no  worse  name.  How  it  was  pursued,  and  how  it 
succeeded,  I  have  now  to  eonsider.'^ 

'   It  is  worth  observiug  how  little  of  Christendom.     Though  one  of   the 

regard  was  paid  to  the  Pope  by  any  great  contracting  powers  whose  con- 

of    the    three    powers    during    these  sent  was  indispensable,   his  Holiness 

negooiations,  which  affected  the  whole  was  treated  with  little  ceremony,  ex- 


1519.]  PREPARATIONS   FOR   A   FRENCH  INTERVIEW.  323 

Negoeiations  for  a  personal  interview  between  the  Kings  of 
France  and  England,  so  often  proposed,  discussed,  postponed 
in  1519,^  were  resumed  in  1520  with  more  apparent  earnest- 
ness than  before.  The  state  of  Queen  Claude's  health,  who 
was  expecting  her  delivery  at  the  end  of  July,  made  it  desirable 
that  the  meeting  should  take  place  as  early  as  April  or  May.^ 
Alarmed  also  at  the  news  of  the  growing  intimacy  between 
Henry  and  the  new  Emperor,  who  was  now  seeking  the 
friendship  of  England,  Francis  was  anxious  to  hurry  on  the 
interview. 

As  both  kings  had  consented  to  appoint  Wolsey  for  their 
proctor,  the  arrangements  were  pushed  forward  with  his  usual 
vigour.  Precedents  of  chivalry  were  diligently  scanned,  lists 
determined,  names  put  in  and  out, — all  the  interminable 
minutiae  incidental  to  such  an  occasion  duly  sifted,  discussed, 
arranged  and  rearranged.  Christendom  on  both  sides  of  the 
Channel  was  plunged  up  to  the  ears  in  the  entrancing  study 
of  pageants  and  ceremonials.  The  orthodox  arrangement  of 
shields  and  banners,  the  places  of  the  combatants,  their  entry 
and  their  exit  fi'om  the  lists,  the  arming  and  barbing  of  their 
horses,  the  dimensions  and  weight  of  their  swords,  lances,  and 
battle-axes  vexed  the  brains  and  contracted  the  brows  of  grey- 
haired  veterans.  Ancient  knights,  who  had  fought  and 
flourished  in  the  brilliant  days  of  Edward  IV.,  deeply  read  in 
MaUory's  translation  of  the  Gests  of  Arthur,  or  the  pages  of 
Froissart,  resumed  their  former  importance.  The  greatness 
of  the  event  appeared  to  demand  new  agents.  Sir  Richard 
Wingfield  was  appointed  to  succeed  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn  at  the 
court  of  Francis,  with  instructions  to  make  himself  agreeable 
to  all  parties.  Sir  Thomas  was  uncourtly,  plodding,  business- 
like, and  niggardly;  Sir  liichard,  free,  open,  and  liberal. 
Though  not  so  chivalrous  or  enthusiastic  as  his  brother  Sir 
liobert,  he  was  a  Winglield,  and  his  name  was  a  passport  to 
favour. 

The  instructions  carried  by  the  new  envoy  ^  were  marked 
by  a  warmth  and  cordiality  of  expression  singularly  at  variance 
with  the  lukewarmness  hitherto  shown  by  the  English  monarch 
in  all  his  negoeiations  with  his  royal  brother.     Sir  liichard 

cept    when   it  Raitefl  the  pnrposoa  of  bat  without   avail.     See    TIT.   p.    230 

any  of  the  throe  to  delay  procoedin<^3  and  No.  720. 

by  profcasin;^  more  than  usual  anxiety  '   See   partinularly    TTI.    118,     122, 

for  the    advieo    and    sanction    of  the  131,  170,  24(5,  31)7,  415,  416. 

head  of  the   Church.     Ijeo   X.  made  ^  l]l.  549. 

frequent  complaints  of  this  treatment,  '   III.  G29. 


324  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

was  to  express,  in  the  first  instance,  the  extreme  desire  felt  by 
his  master  "  to  hear  continually  "  of  the  prosj)erity  of  his  ally. 
Sensible  as  the  King  of  England  was  of  the  services  rendered 
him  by  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  yet — so  Wingfield  was  instructed 
to  say — in  consideration  of  their  ancient  amity,  his  love  could 
not  be  satisfied  without  sending  "  one  of  his  trusty  and  near 
familiars,  to  the  intent  that  by  renovelling  of  ambassadors 
new  testimonies  might  be  found,  as  well  of  the  perseverance 
of  fraternal  love  on  both  parts,  as  also  by  such  means  to 
further  the  augmentation  thereof  from  time  to  time."  This, 
duly  delivered  with  all  the  grace  and  emphasis  of  which 
"Wingfield  was  master,  "with  other  pleasaunt  devices  (conver- 
sation) of  the  King's  grace,  my  lady  Princess,"  and  my  lord 
Legate  by  no  means  forgotten,  with  "  semblable  amiable 
communications,"  as  he  presented  their  letters,  was  to  "  suffice 
for  the  first  audience."  He  was  to  follow  up  on  some  future 
occasion  the  correspondence  thus  auspiciously  commenced,  by 
arguments  of  a  higher  strain,  levelled  at  those  frank  and 
romantic  sentiments  which  still  lingered  in  the  breast  of  the 
French  King,  who,  in  spite  of  his  many  failings,  retained  some 
sparks  of  that  chivalrous  spirit  which  contemporary  monarchs 
neither  valued  nor  possessed.  It  was  not  the  verbal  obliga- 
tions of  a  nuptial  alliance,  the  vulgar  security  of  hostages, 
or  the  stipulations  of  treaties — so  Wingfield  was  to  urge — 
which  formed  the  strongest  ties  of  friendship,  and  "knit  the 
assured  knot  of  perseverant  amity  betwixt  them,"  but  the  love 
they  bore  to  each  other  in  their  hearts.  "  For  remembering 
the  noble  and  excellent  gifts,  as  well  of  nature,  touching  their 
goodly  statures  and  activeness ;  and  of  grace,  concerning 
their  wondrous  wisdoms  and  other  princely  virtues  ;  as  also 
of  fortune,  depending  upon  their  substances  and  puissaunce, 
given  unto  them  by  Almighty  God,  and  tvherein  more  conformity 
is  betwixt  them  than  in  or  amongst  all  other  Christian  princes, 
it  is  not  to  be  marvelled  though  (if)  this  agreeable  consonance 
of  semblable  properties  and  affections  do  vehemently  excite 
and  stir  them  both,  not  only  to  love  and  tenderly  favor  each 
other,  but  also  personally  to  visit,  see  and  speak  together, 
whereby  that  thing,  which  as  yet  standing  upon  reports  is 
covered  with  a  shadow,  shall  be  brought  to  the  light,  face  to 
face,  if  it  proceed  ;  and  finally  make  such  impression  of  entire 
love  in  their  hearts  that  the  same  shall  be  always  permanent 
and  never  be  dissolved,  to  the  pleasure  of  God,  their  both 
comforts,  and  the  weal  of  all  Christendom."     To  grace  his 


1519.]  THE   EMPEROR   UNDECIDED.  325 

uegoeiations,  Wingfield  carried  a  new  sword  as  a  present  to 
the  French  King ;  the  secret  handling  of  which  it  was  reserved 
to  the  English  monarch  to  divulge.^ 

Let  not  my  readers  curl  their  lips  in  scorn  at  such  extra- 
vagant protestations,  or  denounce  them  with  fierce,  uncompli- 
mentary epithets,  proud  of  their  greater  simplicity  of  speech 
and  clearness  of  vision.  Let  them  not  be  mistaken.  If  we 
except  the  flattering  allusion  to  Henry  YIII. — evidently  m- 
tended  for  his  own  eye — the  style  of  Wingfield' s  instructions 
is  wholly  unlike  the  general  staidness  and  sobriety  of  those 
times.  It  had  its  purpose — one  that  was  not  to  be  too 
plainly  expressed,  or  approached  too  rudely.  It  required  to 
be  smothered  under  a  multiplicity  of  details,  and  hidden  in 
those  half-lights  in  which  the  diplomatists  of  those  days 
sometimes  delighted  to  indulge.  The  real  purport  of  this 
rhetoric  oozes  out  in  a  subsequent  letter  written  by  Wingfield 
some  days  after.^  In  some  moment  of  unguarded  gaiety  or 
confidence,  Wingfield  was  to  extort  a  promise  from  Francis 
not  to  condescend  to  any  other  meeting, — prevent  him,  in 
other  words,  from  playing  off  upon  England  the  same 
manoeuvre  that  England  was  then  putting  into  operation 
against  himself.  The  task  was  not  easy ;  it  must  have 
seemed  almost  impossible. 

To  understand  this  more  clearly,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
turn  back  to  the  negociations  then  going  on  between  the 
English  court  and  the  new  Emperor,  Charles  V.  Like  most 
other  rulers  of  his  times,  Charles  was  alternately  swayed  by 
a  French  and  an  Enghsh  party.  The  influence  of  Chievres, 
who  supported  the  former,  was  now  apparently  on  the  decline  ; 
— had  been  so  since  the  meeting  at  MontpeUier  in  1519  ; — and 
the  Bishop  of  Elna,  the  consistent  advocate  of  the  opposite 
poHcy,^  was  now  appointed  to  manage  the  negociations  in 
England.  In  the  month  of  August  after  his  election,  the 
Emperor,  with  a  condescension  as  unusual  as  it  was  unexpected, 
sent  his  favourite,  John  de  la  Sauch,  into  England,  instruct- 
ing him  to  join  with  the  Bishop  in  expressing  the  Emperor's 
gratitude  to  the  King  for  the  services  rendered  him  by  Pace 
in  obtaining  the  imperial  crown.^  As  the  English  court  had 
signified  a  wish  that  the  alliance  between  the  two  sovereigns 
should  be  preserved  and  increased,  the  imperial  ambassadors 

■  III.  685.  menes,  March  8, 1516,  in  Bergenroth's 

"-  March  8,  No.  666.  Calendar. 

'  See   his   letter   to    Cardinal  Xi-  *  III.  419. 


326  THE   KEIGN   OP   HENRY   VIIL  [A.D. 

were  directed  to  assure  the  King  that  Charles  reciprocated  the 
wish,  and  intended  to  oblige  his  Majesty  in  all  things.  They 
were  to  add  that  the  Emperor  was  gratified  with  the  King's 
invitation,  and  would  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  visiting 
England  on  his  way  to  Spain.  Among  other  ambiguous 
expressions,  there  is  one  which  especially  deserves  attention  : 
— if,  Charles  said,  Henry  proposes  "to  do  any  feat"  he  must 
make  sure  of  the  Swiss,  and  take  care  that  they  are  not 
employed  against  him;  for  that  (said  the  Emperor)  "  is  the 
secret  of  secrets."  What  could  this  hint  mean  ?  Had  the 
King  of  England  already  entertained  some  secret  intention  of 
invading  France,  at  the  very  time  when  negociations  for  the 
interview  were  going  on  ;  or  was  it  the  suggestion  of  the 
tempter  ?  What  was  the  feat  here  alluded  to  ?  By  whom 
were  the  Swiss  to  be  employed  ? 

The  proposal  for  a  more  intimate  alliance  thus  candidly 
proposed  and  accepted  by  Charles  had  ulterior  objects  of  the 
most  secret  nature,  which  it  was  not  deemed  safe  should  be 
committed  to  writing.  On  the  arrival  of  the  ambassadors  in 
London,^  Hesdin,  the  Flemish  resident,  wrote  to  the  Cardinal, 
requesting  an  immediate  audience  with  the  King.  To  enforce 
his  application,  he  told  Wolsey  that  the  ambassadors  brought 
with  them  "  agreeable  proposals  ;  "  and  that  De  la  Sauch  had 
communications  to  make  touching  "  the  marriage,  of  which 
the  Cardinal  knew."  "  The  matter,"  he  added,  "  will  be 
easily  colored  ;  "  and  he  concluded  by  saying  that  Francis 
was  making  every  effort  to  induce  Charles  to  pass  through 
France,  and  had  offered  his  queen  and  his  children  as 
hostages  ; — an  assertion  which,  true  or  false,  would  not  be 
without  its  effect  on  the  King  and  the  Cardinal. 

As  this  letter  was  written  in  September,  1519,  negociations 
for  transferring  the  hand  of  the  Princess  Mary  to  the  Emperor 
— for  that  was  the  marriage  thus  obscurely  alluded  to — must 
have  been  under  consideration  at  least  as  early  as  the  summer 
of  that  year.  Yet,  no  longer  back  than  the  winter  of  1518, 
Mary  had  been  solemnly  betrothed  to  the  Dauphin.  What 
was  the  reason  for  this  change  ?  Who  was  the  author  of  it  ? 
Hesdin  seems  to  attribute  it  to  Wolsey.  But  he  may  have 
paid  the  Cardinal  this  compliment  only  in  the  hope  of  securing 
his  attention.  Was,  then,  that  union  of  a  princess  of  England 
with  the  Emperor,  on  whose  dominions  the  sun  never  set, 
more  tempting  and  dazzling  than  the  hand  of  the  Dauphin  ? 

1  Sept.  11.     See  III.  449. 


1519.]  MARY   OFFERED   TO   THE   EMPEROR.  327 

Was  it  simply  the  ambition  of  a  more  magnificent  alliance 
which  induced  Henry  to  break  faith  so  easily,  or  some  offence 
on  the  part  of  Francis  ?  If  what  in  private  life  would  be 
termed  duj^licity  were  not  in  diplomacy  coloured  with  the 
name  of  political  dexterity,  it  would  be  hard  to  justify  the 
conduct  of  the  Cardinal  or  his  master  in  this  intricate  affair. 

For  reasons  not  adequately  explained — perhaps  out  of 
some  displeasure  at  the  terms  proposed,  or  suspicion  of 
Wolsey's  sincerity,  or  dissatisfaction,  not  improbably,  at  the 
ostensible  amity  between  this  country  and  France,  of  which 
he  was  doubtless  kept  well  informed  by  French  agents — this 
auspicious  commencement  was  not  followed  up  by  correspond- 
ing ardour.  Charles's  subsequent  instructions  to  his  ambas- 
sadors were  cold  and  distant.^  He  approved  of  Wolsey's 
proposal  for  a  personal  interview  between  himself  and  the 
King  of  England,  but  he  would  not  undertake  to  visit  England 
for  that  purpose  exclusively.  He  contradicted  the  rumour 
that  he  had  been  treating  secretly  for  a  marriage  with  Eenee, 
the  sister  of  the  French  King,  unknown  to  the  King  and  the 
Cardinal ;  but  he  cautiously  avoided  committing  himself  to 
the  proposed  union  with  Mary.  With  great  appearance  of 
communicativeness,  he  communicated  nothing  of  the  least 
importance.  It  required  no  great  penetration  to  discover  that 
the  new  Emperor,  young  as  he  was,  fully  understood  his  own 
interests,  and  was  not  to  be  cajoled  or  intimidated.  Free 
from  every  tinge  of  romance,  of  sentiment,  or  of  enthusiasm, 
unlike  his  French  rival,  he  kept  his  feelings  under  absolute 
control.  Appeals  to  his  generosity,  his  honour,  or  his  candour 
were  idle ;  cold,  bland,  clear-headed,  and  imperturbable,  he 
estimated  such  appeals  at  their  full  worth.  His  was  an  old, 
very  old,  head  on  very  young  shoulders. 

Yet  he  could  not  afford  to  neglect  this  opportunity  of  a 
closer  alliance  with  England.  He  could  not  regard  without 
some  degree  of  uneasiness  the  growing  intimacy  of  the  French 
and  English  monarchs,  now  ostentatiously  paraded  before  the 
world.  He  knew — no  one  better — as  Francis  had  said  more 
than  once,  that  if  France  and  England  were  brothers  in  arms 
they  would  become  absolute,  and  dictate  the  law  to  Christen- 
dom. As  they  led,  the  Pope  would  follow.  His  possessions 
in  Italy  would  be  rent  irrecoverably  from  Charles,  and  all  his 
claims  disputed.  D'Albret  would  recover  Navarre  ;  a  focus  of 
disaffection,  growing  hotter  and  more  dangerous  every  day  by 

'  See  Dec.  12,  III.  551. 


ooo 


28  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

the  accession  of  his  discontented  Spanish  subjects,  would  be 
established  on  the  very  skirts  of  his  dominions.  Symptoms 
of  disaffection,  not  to  be  disregarded,  had  shown  themselves 
already.  A  union  of  France  and  England  was  tantamount 
to  the  dismemberment  of  half  his  imperial  dominions. 

Therefore,  although  he  assumed  an  air  of  indifference,  in 
the  hope  of  securing  more  favourable  terms,  especially  when 
the  interview  between  Henry  and  the  French  King  had  been 
abandoned  in  1519,  Charles  had  no  real  intention  of  rejecting 
the  proposals  of  England.  In  the  spring  of  1520,  when  the 
French  interview  was  resumed  with  greater  activity  and 
earnestness  than  before,  he  thought  it  wiser  to  adopt  a  more 
conciliatory  tone.  As  if  his  last  instructions  had  been  too 
cold  and  off-handed,  he  dh'ected  his  ambassadors  ^  to  say  that 
he  had  never  meant  in  his  previous  instructions  to  retract  his 
engagements,  or  violate  his  promise  of  a  personal  interview. 
Though  time  was  pressing,  and  affairs  were  urgent,  he  was 
most  anxious  to  enjoy  the  society  of  the  King  and  Queen  of 
England.  He  offered  to  land  at  some  convenient  English 
port,  and  gave  ample  powers  to  his  ambassadors  to  arrange 
the  preliminaries.  They  were  to  insist,  if  possible,  on  having 
the  interview  in  the  Isle  of  Wight.  If  that  was  refused,  and 
the  King  preferred  Southampton,  as  more  convenient  for  the 
usual  festivities,  they  were  to  say  that  the  presence  of  the 
King  and  Queen  was  a  greater  feast  to  the  Emperor  than  any 
that  could  be  offered  him.  If  the  King  insisted  on  having  his 
own  way,  they  were  to  consent. 

These  concessions  were  ample ;  more  ample  than  we 
should  be  apt  at  first  sight  to  consider.  The  punctiliousness 
of  that  age  demanded  that  the  King  should  meet  the  Emperor 
on  his  own  territory — the  inferior  attend  on  his  superior. 
Had  the  Pope  descended  from  his  throne  to  visit  an  ordinary 
bishop  in  partihus  infidelium,  such  an  unusual  act  of  con- 
descension might  have  been  attributed  to  pious  motives  not 
unbecoming  his  spiritual  functions.  But  for  the  Emperor  to 
go  out  of  his  way  and  visit  England  was  regarded  as  an  act 
of  extraordinary  condescension,  little  short  indeed  of  degrada- 
tion. The  world  saw  with  astonishment  the  greatest  monarch 
of  the  earth  vailing  his  bonnet  to  a  King  who  was  scarcely 
considered  as  a  member  of  the  great  triumvirate  of  Christen- 
dom. Even  the  Pope  could  not  conceal  his  indignation  and 
surprise.     Had  the  Emperor  sustained  a  defeat  on  the  field 

»  Feb.  26,  III.  637. 


t 


1520.]    AN   INTERA^IEW   WITH   THE   EMPEEOR   ARRANGED.     329 

of  battle,  had  he  experienced  a  more  real  but  less  ostensible 
diminution  of  his  power  and  authority,  the  event  would  have 
been  regarded  with  less  astonishment.  But  the  necessities  of 
Charles  were  urgent.  He  consented  not  onlj-  to  waive  his 
own  Avishes  as  to  the  place  of  meeting,  but  he  engaged  also  to 
hold  no  interview  with  any  other  power.  He  conceded  freelv 
more  than  Wingfield  had  ever  ventured  to  propose  to  the 
French  King,  and  what  now  he  had  no  occasion  for  proposing. 
Short  of  any  substantial  advantages,  there  was,  in  fact,  no 
concession  which  Charles  was  not  prepared  to  make  to  secure 
the  friendship  of  Henry. 

As  the  Emperor  was  too  far  away  at  Burgos,  it  was  left 
to  his  aunt,  the  Lady  Margaret,  regent  of  the  Netherlands,  to 
settle  the  arrangements  for  the  interview.  Her  instructions 
to  De  la  Sauch  testify  her  own  and  her  nephew's  anxiety  to 
comply  with  the  conditions  offered  them  by  England.  Bather 
than  risk  any  failure,  she  consented  on  her  own  responsibility 
to  waive  all  dispute  as  to  the  place  of  meeting.^  To  hide  the 
necessity  they  were  under  of  securing  this  alliance,  to  make 
England  believe  that  Francis  was  at  that  time  soliciting  their 
friendship,  she  had  recourse  to  the  unusual  precaution  of 
garbling  the  Emperor's  own  letters,  and  suppressing  such 
parts  of  them  as  seemed  to  her  too  candid  or  too  imprudent. 

As  quick  and  decisive  in  her  movements  as  the  Emperor's 
Spanish  ministers  were  slow,  formal,  and  deliberate,  the 
arrangements  in  her  hands  advanced  rapidly  towards  a 
successful  termination.  Her  wishes  on  this  occasion  found 
a  warm  partizan  in  Queen  Katharine.  Long  as  she  had  been 
in  England,  Katharine  still  retained  her  Spanish  predilec- 
tions. News  from  the  Spanish  court  were  as  welcome  to  her 
as  tidings  of  friends  and  relations  to  the  solitary  in  distant 
worlds.  A  knowledge  of  the  Spanish  tongue  was  an  unfailing 
recommendation  to  her  favour.  It  was  not  often  that  she 
took  an  active  part  in  the  amusements  or  politics  of  the 
times ;  and  when  she  consented  to  share  in  either,  it  was 
chiefly  against  her  own  inclination,  and  to  please  the  more 
buoyant  temper  of  her  husband.  I  do  not  find  that  in  all  the 
intrigues  for  the  imperial  election  she  ever  interfered  or  ever 
employed  the  little  influence  she  possessed  in  promoting  the 
interests  of  her  nephew.  But  on  this  occasion  she  took  not 
merely  an  active,  but,  for  her,  an  obtrusive  part.  The  political 
was  merged  in  the  personal  aspect  of  the  question — the  queen 

'  111.  G72. 


330  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

in  the  aunt.  An  officioiisness  that  woiihl  have  scarcely  been 
allowed,  or,  if  allowed,  been  distasteful  to  herself,  seemed  fully 
justified  in  the  affectionate  solicitude  of  a  woman  anxious  to 
welcome  her  youthful  and  illustrious  relative. 

Arrangements  proceeded  rapidly.  More  lively,  more  cordial 
than  her  nephew,  better  versed  in  matters  of  this  nature, 
Margaret,  with  the  ready  tact  of  her  sex,  broke  at  once  through 
the  icy  formality  with  which  the  ministers  of  Charles  had 
contrived  to  invest  them.  Her  interposition  was  agreeable 
to  all  parties,  to  the  English  court  especially,  where,  de- 
servedly or  not,  she  was  certainly  a  favourite.  She  humoured 
the  great  Cardinal;  she  agreed  to  accept  Southampton,  or 
any  other  place,  even  Sandwich,  if  he  required  it,  for  the 
place  of  meeting.  This  Sandwich,  the  ambassadors  were 
careful  to  inform  the  Em]peror,  "  is  two  leagues  from  Dover, 
in  the  English  Downs,  as  you  go  towards  Zealand."  Great 
vessels,  they  add,  cannot  come  alongside,  but  can  anchor  two 
leagues  off  at  the  turn  of  the  Downs  without  danger  from 
tempest.  Small  or  middle-sized  ships  can  be  moored  to  the 
very  walls  of  the  town,  which  is  about  as  large  as  Vilvorden, 
only  better  built.^ 

Wolsey  was  radiant  with  good  humour.  He  expressed, 
with  less  than  his  usual  reserve,  his  satisfaction  at  the  turn 
which  events  had  taken.  Sandwich  was  the  best  place  that 
could  have  been  fixed  upon,  considering  the  state  of  the 
arrangements  between  France  and  England.  He  was  willing 
that  this  auspicious  result  should  be  attributed  to  nothing 
less  than  the  inspiration  of  St.  Thomas,  his  patron  saint,  and 
the  providential  interference  of  the  Almighty.  His  exultation 
w^as  pardonable.  By  the  sheer  force  of  his  genius  the  two 
greatest  monarchs  of  the  West  had  become  his  humble 
servants  ;  the  one  was  as  anxious  to  outbid  the  other  for  his 
favour  as  both  had  been  zealous  in  their  contest  for  the 
imperial  crown ;  and  now  even  as  then,  the  one  cordially 
detested  the  other.  The  only  conjunction  which  he  had 
reason  to  apprehend,  or  which  could  have  proved  a  serious 
obstacle  to  his  policy,  had  been  entirely  prevented.  The 
recent  determination  of  Charles  had  placed  once  more  the 
key  of  Christendom  in  the  hands  of  the  great  Cardinal.  Long 
since  had  the  keys  of  St.  Peter  grown  idle  and  rusty.  They 
had  ceased  to  open  anything,  or  to  shut ;  and  the  guardian  of 
them,  a  poor  "blind  old  man" — such  was  the  language  of 

»  March  19,  III.  G89. 


1520.]  KATHAKINE   GKEATLY   DELIGHTED.  331 

Wolsey  himself — had  no  function  on  earth,  except  to  employ 
them  at  the  dictation  of  the  stronger.  Terrors  of  the  Papacy ! 
With  such  examples  before  him,  the  sorriest  and  most  con- 
temptible wigbt  might  have  bearded  the  grim  phantom  with 
impunit}'.  It  was  formidable  to  those  onl}''  in  whose  bosoms 
there  still  lingered  some  sparks  of  faith  and  reverence. 

In  this  happy  frame  of  mind,  Wolsey  was  willing  to  submit 
to  almost  any  conditions  the  imperial  ambassadors  wished  to 
impose.  Upon  their  informing  him  that  they  had  injunctions 
from  Lady  Margaret  to  adjust  various  points  for  their  mutual 
understanding,  until  the  arrival  of  their  colleagues,  Wolsey 
replied  gaily,  "Come,  and  you  shall  be  welcome;  ask,  and 
you  shall  have ;  speak  openly  and  freely,  and  we  shall  say 
Amen  to  whatever  you  require."  On  Sunday  morning,  he 
carried  them  to  the  King  at  Greenwich. 

The  ambassadors  waited  for  his  Majesty  as  he  came  out  of 
his  chamber  to  go  to  mass,  when  De  la  Sauch  presented  him 
with  Margaret's  letters.  Service  over,  they  proceeded  with 
the  King  to  the  Queen's  apartments.  Here  a  long  conversa- 
tion ensued  between  the  King,  Katharine,  and  the  Cardinal, 
about  their  projected  visit  to  France.  Turning  to  the  ambas- 
sadors, the  King  said,  "Well,  I  am  very  glad  that  affairs  are 
in  such  good  train,  and  I  think  all  will  go  well."  Then 
addressing  himself  to  the  Queen,  he  said,  "  Madam,  the 
Emperor,  my  brother  and  your  nephew,  will  come  hither  this 
time.  I  hope  we  shall  see  him  before  we^visit  the  king  of 
France  ;  but  if  we  do  not,  it  will  not  be  my  fault,  for  I  could 
do  no  more.  To  give  the  Emperor  more  time,  I  have  written 
to  the  king  of  France  to  defer  the  interview ;  but  I  have  taken 
good  care  not  to  tell  him  the  reason,  and  therefore  I  am  in 
hopes  of  receiving  from  him  a  favourable  answer.  He  cannot 
yet  know  the  state  in  which  matters  now  stand  between  me  and 
the  Emperor ;  for  if  ho  did,  he  would  never  grant  my  request ; 
therefore,  the  thing  must  be  kept  as  secret  as  possible."  On 
this  the  Queen,  clasping  her  hands,  and  raising  her  eyes  to 
Heaven,  gave  laud  unto  God  for  the  grace  she  hoped  He  would 
do  her,  that  she  might  behold  her  nephew, — saying  it  was 
her  greatest  desire  in  the  world.  So  saying,  she  thanked  the 
King,  and  made  him  a  very  low  curtsey.  The  King,  removing 
his  bonnet,  assured  her  that  he  would  do  all  on  his  part  that 
was  possible.  Then  addressing  himself  to  the  ambassadors, 
he  said,  with  a  smiling  countenance,  "  As  to  what  the  king  of 
France    has    said    to   the   Emperor,    my   good   brother   and 


332  THE   KEIGN   OF  HENRY   VIII.  LA.D. 

nephew,  I  make  little  account  of  that ;  for  I  am  very  sure  he 
will  not  venture  to  violate  the  treaties.  If  you  do  not  want 
war,  he  wants  it  still  less.  I  have  also  told  him  frankly,  that 
it  will  be  of  no  use  for  us  to  have  an  interview,  if  he  is  to  begin 
war  on  the  morrow  ;  for  I  must  abide  by  my  engagement,  and 
protect  the  invaded  against  the  invader.  I  will  do  all  that  I 
can  to  smooth  the  diiSculties  between  the  two  sovereigns  ;  for 
it  it  be  not  done  now,  I  have  very  little  hope  of  its  being  done 
hereafter.  However,  I  trust  that  God,  who  knows  my  good 
intentions,  will  further  our  wishes.  I  desire  to  establish  peace 
in  Christendom,  and  gain  some  opportunity  of  doing  honor  to 
God,  and  promoting  the  Faith  by  turning  our  united  arms 
against  the  Inj&del." 

Matters  had  already  advanced  so  far  that  nothing  now  was 
required  for  completing  the  negociations,  except  the  arrival  of 
the  commissioners  with  the  imperial  ratification.  The  King, 
the  Queen,  the  omnipotent  Cardinal  were  so  well  disposed, 
that  De  la  Sauch  wrote  to  Charles,  that  if  one  only  of  their 
colleagues  had  arrived  everything  might  have  been  settled  to 
their  wishes.  Speed  was  of  the  utmost  importance.  Aware  of 
what  was  j)assing,  Francis,  in  his  anxiety  to  forestall  and 
outdo  his  rival,  had  condescended  to  yield  the  ^as  d'honneur, 
and  meet  the  English  monarch  on  his  own  territory.  Whilst 
he  was  to  be  at  Arde  on  the  31st  of  May,  Henry  on  the  same 
day  was  to  enter  Guisnes.  Yet,  in  spite  of  this  concession,  so 
agreeable  to  their  pride,  the  English  more  than  half  repented 
of  the  advantage  they  had  gained.  In  the  dazzling  prospect 
of  an  imperial  alliance,  they  were  ready  to  abandon  the  French 
interview.  Happily,  they  were  saved  from  the  consequences 
of  such  a  ste-p  by  the  slow  and  dilatory  proceedings  of  the 
Spaniards.  Notwithstanding  their  opportunity,  notwithstand- 
ing the  activity  and  importunity  of  the  French  king,  the 
Spaniards  courted  failure  by  their  usual  formality  and  tedi- 
ousness.  Never  were  there  worse  negociators.  Days  and 
weeks  slipped  away,  yet  their  commissioners  came  not.  It 
was  of  the  utmost  importance  to  the  Emperor,  as  De  la  Sauch 
wrote  to  Chievres,^  to  keep  Wolsey  in  good  humour,  to  flatter 
the  King,  and  by  liberal  demonstrations  of  candour  and  con- 
fidence counteract  the  subtle  insinuations  of  Francis  at  the 
ensuing  interview.  Not  less  needful  was  it  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances, and  make  the  world  believe  that  Henry  was  wholly 
devoted  to  the  Emperor  ;  for  as  England  led,  the  Pope  and 

>  April  7,  No.  728. 


1520.]  THE   SPANIARDS   DILATORY.  333 

the  smaller  potentates  of  Christendom^  would  follow.  When 
the  agents  of  Charles  expressed  some  apprehensions  as  to  the 
intentions  of  his  Holiness,  Wolsey  readily  undertook  to  mould 
the  Pope  entirely  to  their  wishes.  Blind  men,  he  said,  needed 
a  guide ;  ^  and  he  made  no  doubt  of  his  ability  to  lead  him. 
Arrogant  as  the  sarcasm  may  appear,  it  was  not  wholly 
destitute  of  foundation.  Hating  and  suspecting  the  French 
and  German  protectorate  alike,  Leo  .would  have  grasped  at 
any  method  for  eluding  both.  Yet  the  commissioners  came 
not.  With  the  pride  of  haughty  and  exclusive  men,  locked  up 
in  a  rigid  peninsula,  whose  introspection  never  turns  itself 
outwards  to  watch  the  motives  and  meanings  of  others, 
then,  as  always,  the  Spaniard  was  behind  the  occasion. 
Too  much  accustomed  to  flatter  his  own  self-complacency, 
he  would  not  condescend  to  the  weakness  of  other  men,  or 
advance  one  foot  towards  any  object,  however  important, 
beyond  his  usual  and  measured  pace.  When  we  have  to 
deal  with  men  of  the  world,  observes  La  Sauch,  in  his  secret 
despatch  to  the  prime  minister  of  Charles,  we  give  them  fair 
words  and  promise  wonders,  but  all  is  forgotten  when  our 
object  is  attained.  The  French  give  and  talk,  and  make 
liberal  promises.  "If  you  think,"  he  continues,  "that  the 
English  here  will  labour  for  us,  out  of  pure  love  for  our 
smiles  and  our  good  looks,  and  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  others, 
cerfces.  Monsieur,  j^ou  will  find  yourself  "very  much  mistaken." 
Agree  with  the  master  (Wolsey),  he  adds,  and  you  need  not 
trouble  yourself  about  the  men.  So  he  suggests  that  if  any 
preferment  fell  vacant  before  the  Emperor's  arrival  it  should 
be  offered  to  the  Cardinal ;  "  but  it  must  not  be  less  than  5,000 
or  6,000  ducats  a  year,  or  he  will  not  esteem  it."  In  a  similar 
strain,  half  bantering,  half  serious,  he  turns  into  ridicule  the 
solemn  and  transparent  manoeuvres  of  his  antiquated  coad- 
jutor, the  Spanish  Bishop  of  Elna.  The  Bishop,  in  the 
fulness  of  his  condescension,  had  made  some  promise  to 
Wolsey  of  a  gratuity  in  reversion,  when  the  other  numerous 
obligations  of  the  Emperor  had  been  satisfied,  and  his  engage- 
ments fulfilled  to  the  many  great  personages  who  had  done 
him  services  at  the  late  election,  "  Fancy,"  says  De  la  Sauch 
to  Chievres,  "  what  a  value  the  Cardinal  set  upon  such  a 

'  Were  England  to  be  devoted  to  sort  of  terms  we  are  with  the  Pope, 

France,  says  De  la  Sauch  to  Chievres,  and  we  should  bo  abandoned  by  the 

— and     there    could     bo     no     better  Swiss  and    the    Venetians.     April    7, 

authority — it  would  be  very  awkward  III.  p.  255. 
for  us,  as  we  do  not   know  on  what  ^  See  III.  p.  255. 


334  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   Vlir.  [AD. 

promise  !  He  never  uttered  a  word,  any  more  than  if  he  had 
been  dumb.  This  is  not  the  way  to  deal  with  great  men. 
The  Bishop  had  much  better  have  held  his  tongue.  It  only 
makes  them  suspect  that  we  take  them  pour  hetes,  and  expect 
them  to  do  what  we  want  on  the  faith  of  a  promise  to  be  kept 
some  ten  or  twenty  years  hence.  Thank  you  for  nothing ! 
As  the  old  song  says,  '  F aides  may  wig  chandeau  quandje  suis 
mort  /  '  " 

Meanwhile  the  French  were  busy  and  buzzing  like  flies  in 
the  shambles.  Every  advantage  was  eagerly  seized  by  them, 
and  vaunted  to  the  utmost.  Their  activity,  their  tenacity, 
their  lithe  insinuations,  were  strikingly  contrasted  with  the 
rigid  and  solemn  stateliness  of  their  rivals  ;  mortifying  to  the 
quick  De  la  Sauch  and  his  comrades,  who  were  compelled  to 
sit  still  for  want  of  instructions.  The  apparent  success  of  the 
French  led  them  to  doubt,  but  without  reason,  Wolsey's 
sincerity.  "  The  people  here,  to  a  man,"  wrote  De  la  Sauch 
to  Chievres,^  "  detest  the  French  interview  ;  they  say  they  are 
leaving  their  old  friends  for  their  old  enemies  ;  that  there  is 
no  help  for  it  unless  the  Emperor  come  ;  and  in  that  case  they 
hope  the  interview  may  yet  be  broken  off.  So  j-ou  may  be 
sure  that  you  have  only  Wolsey  to  gain,  which  will  now  be 
very  difficult ;  for,  no  doubt,  besides  the  great  gifts  he  has 
received  from  the  French,  they  have  promised  him  the 
Papacy,  which  we  might  have  done  with  much  better  grace. 
I  see  quite  well  he  will  be  very  glad  if  the  Emperor  do  not 
come ;  for  whenever  we  venture  to  question  his  opinions,  he 
gives  us  our  conge,  saying,  *  Bieu !  ne  le  /aides  point ;  allez 
vous  en; '  or  words  to  that  effect." 

The  insinuation  that  Wolsey  received  bribes  from  France 
appears  to  me,  judging  from  the  whole  tenor  of  the  corre- 
spondence, to  rest  on  no  better  foundation  than  the  suspicions 
of  De  la  Sauch — suspicions  to  which  too  much  weight  must 
not  be  attributed,  whether  they  emanate  from  Spanish, 
Venetian,  or  other  foreign  ambassadors.  Beyond  the  facts 
which  fell  under  their  own  immediate  cognizance,  the  evidence 
of  such  men  is  worth  no  more  than  that  of  ordinary  mortals  ; 
not  often  so  much,  for  the  circuit  and  means  of  their  intelli- 
gence were  more  limited.  Drawn  off  on  a  false  scent  to  suit 
the  purposes  of  the  government  to  which  they  were  accredited, 
anxious  not  unfrequently  to  magnify  their  services  at  home, 
agents  and  ambassadors  were  apt  to  exaggerate  or  lend  too 

'  III.  p.  256. 


1520]  DID   ALL  DEPEND   ON   BRIBERY?  335 

credulous  an  ear  to  rumours  which  coincided  with  their  own 
views  ;  fingxint  quod  sibi  volunt.  Frequently  they  wanted  the 
ability,  not  seldom  the  inclination,  to  take  a  calm  survey  of 
passing  events  ;  and  as  to  testing  the  evidence  on  which  hear- 
say information  rested,  that  was  generally  impossible. 

To  this  credulity  I  attribute  the  broad  assertion  of  La 
Sauch,  that  Wolsey  and  the  nobles  of  England,  corrupted  by 
French  bribes,  were  ready  to  compromise  their  own  honour 
and  the  interests  of  their  country.  The  Spaniard  judged 
others  by  himself.  It  was  the  readiest  way  for  excusing  his 
own  incapacity  ;  the  most  obvious  explanation  of  his  own 
disappointments.  "  We  must  turn  their  own  arts  against  the 
P'rench,  and  not  be  sparing  of  our  promises,"  says  La  Sauch 
in  the  letter  already  referred  to,  "  or  Francis  will  make  them 
drink  his  auriim  potah'ile,  and  they  will  tipple  a  la  bouteille, 
while  our  ambassadors  sit  looking  on  with  folded  arms.  Had 
this  been  provided  for  three  or  four  months  ago,  the  French 
interview  would  never  have  taken  place,  and  our  own  would 
have  been  arranged  more  consistently  with  our  honour." 
Then,  after  telling  a  curious  anecdote  of  Queen  Katharine's 
holding  a  council  to  confer  about  the  interview,  in  which  she 
had  harangued  the  members  present,  and  made  such  repre- 
sentations against  the  French  meeting  "  as  one  would  not 
have  supposed  she  dared  to  do,  or  even  imagine,"  he  adds, 
"  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  French  interview  is  against  the 
will  of  the  Queen  and  of  all  the  nobles,  though  some  may  have 
already  tasted  the  bottle."  ^ 

Quick  and  lively  as  he  was,  this  total  misconception  of 
Wolsey's  intentions  and  policy  is  not  very  creditable  to  the 
ambassador's  discernment.  So  far  from  lending  a  ready  ear 
to  the  insinuations  of  the  French,  Wolsey  was  doing  his  best 
to   delay,   if  not   to   hinder,    the   interview.      Nor   do   these 

'  Katharinewas  suspected  through-  time  sho  demanded  of  Wingficld,  who 

out  of  doiug  her  utmost  to  hinder  the  had    sncceoded    Boleyn,    whether    ho 

French  interview  ;  not  witliout  reason.  thought  the  Queen's  grace  "had  any 

Her  strong  predilections  in  favour  of  great  devotion  to  this  assembly  (inter- 

her  nephew  did  not  escape  the  pene-  view)."  "  Whereunto,"  says  Wingfield, 

trating  glances   of    Louise  of    Savoy.  "  I  answered,  i  knew  well  that  there 

"  Is  not  the  Queen's  grace  of  England,"  could  not  be  a  more  virtuous  or  wise 

she  said   with  the  most   artless  guile  princess  anywhere  than  the  Queen  my 

to  Holoyn,  then  ambassador  in  Franco,  mistress  was,   having  none  other  joy 

"aunt    to     the     King     of     Spain?"  or  comfort  in  this  world  but  to  do  and 

"Madame,"  said    Boleyn,   "he   is  her  follow  all  that  she  may  tliiidc  to  sland 

sister's  son;  but  the  King  of  England  with  the  King's  pleasure."      111.  7^1. 

baa  greater  affection  for  your  son  than  The  answers  of  both  left  the  matter 

for    any    king    living."      At    another  as  thoy  found  it. 


)36 


THE   EEIGN   OF   HENKY   VIII. 


[A.D. 


insinuations  receive  the  least  countenance  from  the  corre- 
spondence of  the  times.  His  private  letters  are  numerous ; 
yet  no  hint  of  bribery  is  to  he  found  in  them  or  in  the 
despatches  he  received  from  the  French  court.  Such  corrup- 
tion as  De  la  Sauch  intimates  could  scarcely  have  existed, 
when  not  the  slightest  indication  of  it  is  found  in  the  most 
confidential  intercourse  on  either  side.^ 


'  Mr.  Bergenroth  thinks  otherwise, 
but  produces  no  other  evidence  in 
support  of  his  opinion  than  what  will 
be  found  in  the  Calendar  (see  III. 
1321)  ;  that  is,  the  half-yearly  pensions 
paid  by  France  to  Norfolk,  Suffolk, 
and  others.  I  am  somewhat  surprised 
that  Mr.  Bergenroth  should  have  over- 
looked the  title  of  the  book  from  which 
he  derived  his  information ;  sc.  a 
"  Book  of  Accounts  concerning  the  Pay- 
tnent  of  Pensions  to  the  King  of  England 
and  Englif^h  Subjects."  (Bergenroth, 
Cal.  ii.  p.  284.)  If  such  pensions  were 
given  for  treasonable  purposes,  would 
the  King  of  England  have  taken  a 
bribe  from  France  to  betray  himself  ? 
Would  such  payments,  if  secret,  have 
been  formally  I'egistered  half-yearly, 
like  any  other  accounts,  without  any 
attempt  at  concealment  ? 

To  explain  the  real  nature  of  these, 
I  must  call  my  reader's  attention  to 
the  following  facts.  In  the  treaty  of 
London,  made  between  England  and 
France  on  the  7th  of  Aug.,  1.514,  on 
the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  Princess 
Mary  to  Lewis  XII.,  it  was  stipulated 
that  a  million  of  gold  crowns  should 
be  paid  to  Henry  VIII.,  in  half-yearly 
instalments  of  50,000  francs  (see  I. 
5280,  5306).  At  the  same  time  letters 
patent  were  issued  by  Lewis,  granting 
certain  pensions  to  Norfolk,  Suffolk, 
Wolsey,  and  others,  in  consideration  of 
the  services  rendered  by  them  on  that 
occasion.  Such  payments  were  not 
uncommon  ;  as  presents,  at  all  events, 
if  not  in  the  shape  of  annuities  ; — and 
there  was  no  mystery  connected  with 
them.  As  a  proof — if  proof  be  needed 
— in  1518  Henry  gave  the  French 
gentlemen  BOOL,  and  not  long  after 
1,8291.  14s.  in  plate  (see  II.  p.  1479) 
— a  much  larger  sum  than  all  the 
French  pensions  added  together  (see 
also  II.  1475,  III.  1536)  ;  and  in  reward 
to  Chievres,  prime  minister  of  the 
Emperor,  500L,  in  1520  (III.  1541). 
These  instances  miffht  be  easily  multi- 
plied.    So  far  Mr.  Bergenroth's  state- 


ment is  unfounded,  that  the  ministers 
of  important  powers  like  France  and 
Spain  were  inaccessible  to  "  corruption 
money  " — for  as  such  he  stigmatizes 
gifts  and  annuities  of  this  kind — but 
that  the  practice  was  confined  to 
England  and  inferior  states. 

The  agreements  thus  entered  into 
by  Lewis  were  confirmed  by  Francis 
I.  shortlv  after  his  accession,  on  the 
5th  of  April,  1515  (see  II.  244,  302), 
and  he  agreed  to  make  good  the 
arrears  due  from  his  predecessor.  On 
the  1st  of  May  following,  50,000  francs 
were  paid  at  Calais,  to  commissioners 
appointed  under  Henry's  sign  manual 
{ib.  381),  and  undoubtedly  at  the 
same  time  the  pensions  mentioned  by 
Mr.  Bergenroth,  for  all  the  receipts 
are  of  the  same  date,  and  are  treated 
as  one  affair.  They  continued  to  be 
made  in  the  same  manner  until  the 
close  of  1518,  when,  in  consideration 
of  the  surrender  of  Touruay,  the  rate 
of  payment  was  altered,  and  Wolsey's 
claim  on  the  bishopric  of  Toumay  was 
compounded  for  by  an  annual  pension 
of  12,000  livres  Tournois.  About  May, 
1521,  they  ceased ;  Francis  making 
various  excuses  for  delaying  these 
payments,  the  justice  of  which  he 
never  attempted  to ^  deny,  or  impugn 
them  on  the  score  of  dishonesty.  War 
was  not  declared  against  France 
until  a  year  after ;  and  one  of  the 
causes  alleged  was  the  refusal  of  the 
King  of  France  to  fulfil  these  en- 
gagements. It  was  the  object  of 
Wolsey,  in  the  interval,  to  induce  the 
Emperor,  as  a  condition  of  his  alliance 
with  England,  to  take  these  responsi- 
bilities upon  himself,  and  indemnify 
England  for  the  pecuniary  losses  it 
must  incur  by  a  rupture  with  France. 
And  this,  doubtless,  was  the  reason 
why  Mr.  Bergenroth  found  in  the 
Spanish  archives  copies  from  the 
French  archives  of  these  payments. 
There  was,  I  repeat,  no  secrecy  in 
these  matters  ;  there  was  none  in  the 
intentions   of    Wolsey   to    obtain,    if 


1520.] 


ARRANGEMENTS   FOR   THE   EMPEROR'S   VISIT. 


337 


But  to  proceed.  The  powers  so  much  desired  arrived  at 
last.  It  was  arranged  that  Charles  should  land  at  Sandwich 
in  the  middle  of  Ma3\  From  Sandwich  the  two  Kings  wore 
to  proceed  to  the  shrine  of  St.  Thomas  at  Canterbury ;  and  in 
honour  of  the  event  Wolsey  had  procured  from  the  Pope  a 
plenary  indulgence  and  jubilee.^  At  Canterbury  the  Emperor 
was  to  be  met  by  Queen  Katharine.  The  Spaniards  pressed 
hard  to  have  the  term  prolonged  to  the  end  of  May,  nominally 
for  the  convenience  of  their  master,  really  in  the  hope  that  by 
further  delays  they  might  either  get  rid  of  the  French  inter- 
view, or  infuse  so  much  jealousy  and  suspicion  into  the  minds 
of  both  parties  as  should  neutralize  any  dangerous  effects  to 
be  anticipated  from  it.  But  Wolsey  remained  firm — not 
influenced  by  corrupt  motives,  as  the  Spaniards  imagined, 
but,  as  more  careful  and  impartial  thinkers  will  believe,  by 
other  considerations.  So  long  as  he  held  the  scales  between 
the  two  monarchs,  he  controlled  the  policy  of  both.     Any 


possible,  indemnity  from  the  Emperor ; 
the  whole  process  of  which  was 
submitted  to  Henry  VIII.  What 
foundation  there  can  be  in  such  pro- 
ceedings for  the  charge  of  avarice 
brought  against  the  King,  I  am  at  a 
loss  to  see ;  and  equally  am  I  at  a  loss 
to  understand  what  evidence  they 
afford  that  Wolsey  wished  to  retain 
his  pension  from  France,  and  yet 
obtain  compensation  from  the  Emperor 
for  losses  he  had  never  sustained. 
These  pensions,  part  of  the  general 
arrangement  made  by  Lewis  XII.  at 
his  marriage,  made  so  publicly  that 
they  passed  under  his  letters  patent, 
were  confirmed  and  reconfirmed  by 
Francis  at  his. accession.  They  were 
open  and  obvious  to  all  parties.  To 
twist  out  of  them  a  general  charge  of 
corruption  against  English  statesmen, 
to  represent  the  King's  displeasure  at 
Francis,  for  violating  his  engagements, 
as  an  exhibition  of  impotent  anger 
and  cupidity,  is  a  strange  perversion 
of  the  facts.  Nor  is  Mr.  Bergenroth's 
discovery  a  new  one,  as  he  imagines, 
as  my  readers  will  see  by  referring  to 
a  copy  of  these  accounts  (III.  1321) 
taken  by  M.  Teulet  from  the  French 
archives,  and  deposited  in  the  Record 
office  many  years  ago.  Yet  these 
half-yearly  instalments,  and  no  other, 
paid  by  Franco  to  England,  repeated 
from  time  to  time  in  various  pages  of 
Mr.  Bergenroth's  Calendar,  as  if  they 

VOL.  I. 


were  so  many  independent  proofs  of 
bribery,  are  the  sole  evidence  on  which 
his  accusation  rests. 

Long  as  this  note  is,  I  cannot  con- 
clude it  without  calling  my  reader's 
attention  to  a  letter  from  one  of  these 
pensionei's,  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  to 
Wolsey  on  this  subject,  in  which  he 
complains  of  the  omission  of  his  name 
from  the  lists  of  French  pensioners,  on 
the  ground  that  his  friends  both  in 
France  and  England  would  consider 
such  omission  as  dishonourable,  and 
a  bad  reward  for  his  services  to  the 
King.  Would  any  man  in  his  senses 
write  in  this  style  if  these  pensions 
were  given  for  corrupt  purposes .-' 
(See  Appendix.) 

Equally  slender  is  the  evidence  on 
which  Mr.  Bergonroth  assorts  that 
Pace,  the  Bishop  of  Durham,  and  Brian 
Tuke  were  in  the  Emperor's  pay. 
(Pref.  p.  cxvi.)  The  document  quoted 
by  Mr.  Bergenroth  in  support  of  this 
extraordinary  statement  (see  III.  803) 
is  nothing  more  than  a  pa})er  of  agenda 
of  the  Emperor's  council  at  (Jorunna, 
in  which  it  is  proposed  to  offer  Wolsey 
"a  sop  in  the  mouth,"  and,  if  he 
accept  it,  a  pension  to  Pace  and  others, 
to  l)o  deducted  from  that  offered  to 
Wolsey  !  Mr.  Bergenroth  produces  no 
evidence  to  show  that  these  oilers 
were  ever  made,  still  less  that  they 
were  ever  accepted. 

•  See  III.  095. 


338  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [AD. 

exclusive  preference  for  either  would  have  compelled  him  to 
abandon  bis  own  position.  He  would  have  ceased  to  be 
mediator,  and  have  become  an  ally. 

Meanwhile  the  negociations  for  the  French  interview  were 
pushed  forward  with  the  greatest  rapidity.  Resolved  to  stick 
at  no  concessions,  provided  they  involved  no  real  sacrifice, 
Francis  I.  was  prompt,  courteous,  and  conciliating.^  Contrary 
to  the  express  wishes  of  his  council,  he  consented,  at  Wolsey's 
suggestion,  to  advance  beyond  his  own  territories,  and  receive 
the  King  of  England  on  English  ground  in  the  English  pale.^ 
He  permitted  Wingfield  to  resort  to  his  chamber  at  all  times, 
without  waiting  for  his  express  permission.  To  all  the  points 
on  which  the  Cardinal  desired  his  pleasure  he  readily  assented, 
— was,  in  fact,  so  ready  to  condescend  to  all  his  requirements, 
that  Henry  did  not  hesitate,  as  we  have  seen,  to  take  advantage 
of  this  facility,  and  ask  for  a  longer  prorogation  of  the  inter- 
view, hoping  in  the  interim  to  bring  his  communications  with 
the  Emperor  to  a  more  satisfactory  adjustment.  But  here  the 
courtesy  of  the  French  monarch  had  reached  its  term.  He 
was  not  prepared  to  play  his  opponent's  game,  or  advance  one 
step  further  than  his  own  interest  dictated.  He  had  so  far 
deferred  to  the  King's  wishes  already  as  to  put  off  the  inter- 
view until  the  end  of  May,  and  the  tourney  to  the  4th  of  June.^ 
It  was  unreasonable,  he  said,  to  demand  more.  Then  came 
the  unanswerable  objection,  which  neither  politeness  nor 
policy  could  overrule  ; — the  Queen  was  eight  months  in  her 
pregnancy,  and  further  procrastination  must  prevent  her 
appearance  at  the  meeting. 

To  press  for  delay  after  such  a  plea  was  impossible.  The 
English  ambassador  could  do  no  less  than  declare  that  his 
master  "  would  not  for  anything  "  that  the  Queen  should  be 
absent  from  the  interview,  "  without  the  which  his  highness 
thought  there  should  lack  one  great  part  of  the  perfection  of 
the  feast."  "^  The  sickness  of  Wolsey,  who  appeared  to  have 
been  attacked  by  jaundice  and  colic  in  April,  and  the  difficulty 
of  completing  the  necessary  preparations  within  the  term 
prescribed,  seemed  at  first  to  offer  a  more  reasonable  argu- 
ment for  delay.  Guisnes  and  Ardres  were  equally  neglected 
and  ruinous.^  Neither  of  them  was  adapted  for  a  royal 
residence ;  least  of  all  for  the  magnificent  entertainments  in 

'  III.  645,  666.  *  Wingfield,  March  24. 

^  III.  643,  '  III.  700. 

3  III.  681,  697. 


1520.]      ARRANGEMENTS   FOE   THE   FRENCH   INTERVIEW.       339 

which  each  sovereign  proposed  to  outdo  the  other.  To  remedv 
this  inconvenience,  it  had  been  proposed  by  Francis  that  the 
meeting  should  be  held  in  the  fields  ;  that  the  Kings,  or  at 
least  their  retinues,  should  lodge  in  tents  or  wooden  huts 
hastily  erected  for  the  occasion.  But  the  country  supplied  no 
timber ;  every  foot  of  wood,  not  merely  for  the  lodgings,  but 
for  the  lists,  the  barriers,  and  the  stages,  had  to  be  brought 
from  a  great  distance.^  Henry's  retinue  amounted  to  3,997 
persons  and  2,087  horses  ;  the  Queen's  to  1,175  persons  and 
778  horses.  Besides  the  ordinary  accommodations  for  housing 
so  large  and  distinguished  a  company,  state  apartments  had 
to  be  provided  capacious  enough  to  satisfy  the  King's  and  the 
Cardinal's  requirements.  There  was  to  be  a  great  chamber 
124  feet  long,  42  feet  wide,  and  30  feet  high,  "  longer  and  wider 
than  the  White  Hall ;  "  a  dining-room  80  feet  long,  34  wide, 
and  27  high,  "larger  than  the  greatest  chamber  in  Bride- 
well ;  "  a  withdrawing-room  60  feet  long,  34  wide,  and  27  feet 
high.  A  chapel — for  how  could  chivalry  be  divorced  from 
piety  ? — duly  served  with  deans,  chaplains,  and  singing  boys, 
formed  part  of  the  arrangements.  "  The  clerk  of  the  closet 
was  to  warn  ten  chaplains  to  accompany  the  King,  and  provide 
the  closet  with  the  best  hangings,  traverse,  jewels,  images, 
and  altar  cloths;  "  ^whilst  the  rich  copes  and  vestments  given 
by  Henry  YH.  to  the  Abbey  of  Westminster,  with  all  their 
emblazonments  of  jewelry  and  gold  embroidery,  were  to  add 
lustre  to  the  scene,  and  divide  the  palm  with  gilded  armour 
and  regal  ornaments.  Horses  and  hounds,  collars  and 
leashes,  horns  and  baldrics,  presents  for  the  Fre^nch  nobility 
and  gentry,  tasked  the  ingenuity  and  swelled  the  baggage 
trains  of  the  royal  attendants. 

It  was  an  age  of  pageantry,  when  even  the  richest  and  the 
noblest  found  little  scope  for  their  inventive  faculties  except 
in  ceremonials  of  romance  and  gallantry.  Never  had  any 
occasion  presented  itself  better  adapted  to  the  prevailing 
humour  of  the  times.  The  genius  and  invention  of  the  age 
found  pleasant  occupation  in  architectural  rebuses,  and  riddles 
in  paint  and  gilding.  Wherever  the  eye  fell,  the  Tudor  badge 
of  the  rose  stood  all  ablaze  in  resplendent  colours,  "large  and 
stately,"  tricked  out  in  every  form  of  tortuous  device,  on 
canvas,  tapestry,  and  cloth  of  gold.^  Posies  not  less  ingenious 
than  intricate,  the  work  of  the  celebrated  "  Maistre  Barkleyo, 

'  III.  825.  *  III.  70i.  Mil.  750. 


340  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

the  black  monk  and  poet,"  ^  attracted  the  gaze  of  the  puzzled 
spectators  by  their  curious  garniture  and  enigmatical  flourishes. 
Brief  as  was  the  time  allowed  for  preparation,  and  far  as  the 
work  must  have  fallen  short  of  the  glowing  conception  of  its 
prime  architect,  the  accounts  of  eye-witnesses  leave  no  room 
to  doubt  the  extraordinary  splendour  of  the  scene.^  Like 
similar  exhibitions  of  a  later  date,  and  scarcely  more  restricted 
in  its  objects,  the  pageant  was  intended  to  show  what  England 
could  accomplish  in  those  arts  which  the  age  valued  above  all 
others.  Fired  with  emulation,  both  nations  sent  notices 
through  the  world  to  come  and  wonder.  Even  a  gigantic 
glass  greenhouse,  sj)rawling  over  half  an  acre,  would  have 
lifted  its  livid  and  shapeless  length  in  hopeless  rivalry  against 
this  burnished  summer  palace,  put  up  and  pulled  down  in  a 
month,  and  packed  away  in  boxes  for  England  when  its  work 
was  over.  .  For  decorative  art,  even  when  subservient  to  these 
"  fierce  vanities,"  had  not  yet  been  wholly  divorced  from 
religious  feeling.  Fostered  by  scholars  and  ecclesiastics,  it 
had  not  yet  sunk  into  vulgar  obtrusiveness  or  irretrievable 
meanness.^ 

Occupied  with  such  designs,  Wolsey  might  fairly  have 
asked  for  delay,  both  for  "  better  preparation,  and  in  conse- 
quence of  his  maladies,  which,  if  they  did  so  fervently 
continue"  as  at  present,  would  hinder  his  "travelling,  to  his 
great  regret  and  inward  pensiveness."  ^  He  might  fairly  hold 
out  the  tempting  prospect  that  if  Queen  Claude  were  delivered 
on  the  confines  of  the  two  kingdoms,  when  the  King  and  Queen 
of  England  were  present,  she  might  expect  the  honour  of  their 
becoming  sponsors  for  the  child.  Under  other  circumstances 
such  arguments  might  have  proved  successful.  But  Francis 
had  begun  to  suspect,  not  without  reason,  that  these  repeated 
applications  for  delay  were  little  better  than  a  pretext  for 
evading  the  interview  altogether.  However  studied  the  secrecy 
in  which  the  imperial  negociations  were  involved,  he  was  not 
ignorant  of  the  projected  meeting  of  the  King  of  England  and 
the  Emperor.  He  taxed  the  English  ambassador  with  the 
fact ;  he  desired,  through  his  minister  the  Admiral,  that  the 
visit  of  Charles  should  be  delayed  until  after  the  interview  at 

'  Author  of  "  The  Ship  of  Fools."  describes  the  astonishment  which  he 

III.  737.  felt  on  viewing  this  spectacle  of  un- 

2  III.  p.  .309.  paralleled     magnificence.      See     III. 

^  Budajns,  the  great  Greek  scholar,  878. 
who  was    present   on    the    occasion,  *  III.  736. 


1520.]  EXCUSES   FOR  DUPLICITY.  341 

Arde.  What,  he  asked,  would  Henry  have  thought,  if  he  had 
arranged  on  his  part  for  a  similar  communication  with  the 
Iving  of  Castile  ?  ^  Eeasonable  as  the  appeal  might  seem,  the 
Cardinal  well  knew  that  Francis  was  in  no  condition  to  enforce 
it.  He  scarcely  deigned  to  notice  this  remonstrance.  It 
would  be  a  strange  and  ungrateful  proceeding,  he  coldly 
remarked,  if  a  prince  should  be  debarred  from  receiving  the 
ambassadors  of  his  ancient  friends  and  confederates.  "And, 
to  be  plain  with  you,  if  the  king  of  Castile  should  offer  to 
descend  at  Sandwich  or  about  those  parts,  as  he  hath  done, 
to  see  and  visit  the  King  and  the  Queen,  his  uncle  and  aunt, 
the  King  being  in  journeying  towards  the  sea  and  next  there- 
unto, it  were  too  marvellous  ingratitude  to  refuse  the  same  ; 
for  by  such  dealing  the  King  might  well  judge  and  think  that 
the  King  om-  master  neither  esteemed,  loved,  nor  favored  him." 

Such  arguments  afforded  no  loop-hole  for  discussion. 
Even  the  logic  of  diplomacy  must  yield  to  the  demands  of 
natural  piety.  As  the  condition  of  the  French  Queen  had 
proved  an  insurmountable  obstacle  to  deferring  the  interview, 
the  claims  of  hospitality  and  relationship  were  equally  opposed 
to  the  ungraciousness  of  refusing  hospitality  to  the  Emperor, 
should  chance  or  inclination  drive  him  to  the  English  coast. 
Nothing  remained  for  Francis  except  to  refuse  the  conditions, 
or  proceed  with  the  arrangements  under  all  these  discourage- 
ments. To  refuse  would  at  once  have  exposed  him  to  the 
danger  he  was  most  anxious  to  avert,  and  have  hastened  the 
union  between  England  and  the  Emperor.  And  though  he 
must  often  have  felt  that  he  was  embarked  on  a  desperate 
policy,  that  sooner  or  later  such  a  conjunction  would  inevitably 
take  place,  he  preferred  that  course  which  seemed  for  the 
present  most  accordant  with  his  wishes.  Possibly  by  the 
fascinations  of  a  personal  interview,  by  flattering  the  vanity 
of  the  English  monarch,  by  the  blandishments  of  the  hand- 
somest women  in  France,^  selected  with  great  care  to  be 
present  on  the  occasion,  he  hoped  to  thwart  the  dreaded 
coalition  of  his  formidable  rivals.  If  he  could  not  absolutelj'' 
prevent  it,  he  might  yet  put  it  off  to  a  distant  period  when 
he  should  be  better  prepared  to  meet  it. 

So,  though  more  than  once  in  peril  of  shipwreck,  the 
negociations  for  the  interview  went  speedily  forward,  with 
much  apparent,  but  with  little  real  cordiality.     Articles  for 

•  III.  754.  *  III.  698. 


342 


THE  KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII. 


[A.D. 


the  tourney  were  arranged;  officers  were  despatched,  after 
the  ancient  fashion,  to  Spain,  Flanders,  and  elsewhere,^  to 
invite  all  who  professed  "  the  maistrie  of  arms"  ^  to  meet  and 
take  part  in  these  jousts  "  for  the  honor  and  pastime  "  of  the 
ladies  ;  proclamations  suspended  in  thoroughfares  and  puhHc 
places,^  commanded  all  vagabonds  and  idle  persons  to  evacuate 
the  roads  leading  to  the  field  within  six  hours  "on  pain  of 
hanging  ;  "  and  enjoined  upon  gentlemen  and  officers  of  every 
degree  to  abstain  from  profane  swearing  and  the  use  of 
offensive  language. 

The  numerous  and  intricate  regulations  required  in  order 
to  control  the  emulation  and  curb  the  angry  passions  en- 
gendered by  so  exciting  a  pastime,  had  been  duly  considered 
and  arranged,^  when  a  new  difficulty  arose,  bidding  fair  to  set 
at  nought  the  labour  and  expense  already  incurred.  Rumours 
were  industriously  circulated  that  Francis  was  bringing 
secretly  into  the  field  large  bodies  of  men  with  a  ^proportionate 
quantity  of  ammunition.^  At  the  moment  when  the  English 
monarch  was  prepared  to  cross  the  sea,  he  was  informed  that 
the  French  King  had  equipped  twelve  or  fourteen  large  vessels. 
Such  rumours  were  easily  spread  and  eagerly  believed  by 
partizans  on  both  sides  of  the  Channel,  who  either  looked  with 
dissatisfaction  at  the  proposed  interview  with  an  hereditary 
foe,  or  grudged  Wolsey  the  power  and  importance  he  seemed 
to  acquire  from  it.  As  if  by  magic,  the  clink  of  hammers,  the 
hum  of  preparation,  stopped  at  once,  until  the  Cardinal  had 
received  assurance  from  the  French  King,  under  his  broad 
seal,  that  no  vessel  should  leave  any  port  in  Normandy  or 
Brittany  until  the  interview  was  over.^ 


1  III.  685,  686. 

-  III.  699. 

3  III.  841. 

*  As  many  challengers  would  be 
"  so  vainglorious  as  to  wish  to  run  " 
as  long  as  the  day  lasted  or  their 
horses  endured,  it  was  necessary  to 
limit  each  tilt  to  six  courses.  The 
number  of  strokes  with  the  sword  was 
to  be  determined  at  the  pleasure  of 
the  ladies,  and  therefore  did  not  ex- 
ceed, we  may  hope,  the  bounds  of 
charity  and  discretion.  Heavy  swords, 
in  which  the  superior  bone  and  sinew 
of  the  EuKlish  would  give  them 
manifest  advantage,  were  excluded, 
except  on  special  occasions.  The 
two-handed  sword,  of  the  old  chivalrous 
ao-e,  was  objected  to  as  a  dangerous 


weapon,  and  few  gauntlets  would  resist 
the  stroke  of  it.  In  short,  the  real 
interest  of  the  meeting  consisted  in 
the  opportunity  it  afforded  for  mag- 
nificent display,  and  perhaps  some 
small  trial  of  skill ;  but  careful  pro- 
vision was  duly  made  against  personal 
hazard  ; — and  that  on  prudential  con- 
siderations. In  the  rivalry  of  the 
two  nations,  and  in  the  tendency, 
especially  of  Englishmen,  to  settle 
down  in  right  earnest  to  the  work 
before  them,  forgetting  the  limits  of 
mere  pastime,  without  these  restric- 
tions the  consequences  would  have 
been  hazardous. 

^  III.  819,  825. 

«  III.  836,  842. 


1520.]       PEEPARATIONS   FOR   THE   FRENCH   INTERVIEW.        343 

So  favourable  an  opportunity  for  display  of  personal  skill 
and  daring,  of  fine  clothes,  fine  horses  and  fine  armour,  on 
such  a  field  and  before  such  a  presence,  had  not  occurred 
within  the  memory  of  man.  Both  nations  were  full  of  young 
blood ;  both  were  adventurous  and  greedy  of  distinction  ;  both 
anxious  to  make  proof  of  their  activity  and  valour,  for  which 
no  such  vasty  theatre  could  be  found  within  their  ordinary 
confines.  Without  offence  to  distribute  places  and  employ- 
ments among  so  many  competitors  for  fame  was  no  easy  task. 
Who  should  have  the  honour  of  sustaining  the  reputation  of 
England  in  the  lists,  or  be  delegated  to  the  more  quiet  but 
less  envied  honour  of  guarding  the  Queen  or  waiting  on  my 
lord  Cardinal,  gave  occasion  for  interminable  anxiety  and 
jealousy.  It  was  impossible  for  the  coolest  head  or  most  con- 
ciliating temper  to  steer  clear  of  heart-burnings  and  dissen- 
sions, and  satisfy  the  claims  of  all.  And  though  Shakespeare 
was  mistaken  in  representing  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  as 
absent  from  the  interview,  he  has  expressed  accurately  enough 
in  Buckingham's  celebrated  speech  the  bitter  disappointment 
and  offended  pride  of  more  than  one  of  the  nobility,  whose 
employments  on  this  occasion  did  not  correspond  with  their 
own  estimate  of  their  own  merits.  "  Why  the  Devil,"  says 
Buckingham — 


^o^ 


"Upon  this  French  going  out,  took  he  upon  him 
(Without  the  privity  of  the  King)  to  appoint 
Who  should  attend  on  him  ?     He  makes  up  the  file 
Of  all  the  gentry  ;  for  the  most  part  such 
To  whom  as  great  a  charge  as  little  hont)ur 
He  meant  to  lay  upon  :  and  his  own  letter — 
The  honourable  board  of  council  out — 
Must  fetch  him  in  he  papers." 

As  proctor  for  both  Kings,  the  appointment  of  the  lists 
rested  exclusively  with  Wolsey.  The  arrangements  from  the 
greatest  to  the  smallest,  were  under  his  control : — yet  not 
"  without  the  privity  of  the  King,"  as  the  Duke  asserts  in  his 
anger ;  for  Henry  was  generally  consulted,  and  as  generally 
assented  to  whatever  the  Cardinal  proposed. 

Many  such  lists  are  to  be  found  among  the  State  Papers.^ 
They  are  for  the  most  part  in  the  handwriting  of  Buthal,  then 
Bishop  of  Durham  and  Secretary  of  State ;  in  other  words, 
they  were  dictated  by  the  Cardinal;  and  at  his  option  "the 
file  of  all  the  gentry  "  was  made  up.     But  I  find  no  reason 

•  See  also  tho  Rutland  Papers,  p.  29. 


344  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

for  supposing  that  Wolsey  was  influenced  by  undue  partiality 
or  sought  to  gratify  his  own  caprices  in  the  selection.  On 
the  contrary,  the  names  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  attending 
the  interview  are  an  evidence  that  they  were  taken  impartially 
from  every  shire  of  England,  solely  out  of  consideration  to 
their  rank,  their  wealth,  and  their  importance.  Posts  and 
emploj^ments  were  allotted  according  to  the  exigencies  of  the 
occasion,  or  the  capacities  of  those  who  were  appointed  to  fill 
them.  And,  so  far  as  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  was  concerned, 
there  is  no  warrant  for  supposing  that  he  was  suffering  at 
this  time  under  the  displeasure  of  the  Cardinal ;  rather  the 
reverse. 

He  had,  indeed,  not  many  months  before,  incurred  the 
King's  displeasure.  "According  to  Hall,^  in  November  the 
year  before.  Sir  William  Bulmer  and  others  had  been  sum- 
moned to  the  Star  Chamber  for  riots  and  misdemeanours — 
offences  not  uncommon  in  the  young  men  of  that  age — Sir 
William  especially,  "because  he,  being  the  King's  servant 
sworn,  refused  the  King's  service,  and  became  servant  to  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham."  The  King,  who  presided  on  this 
occasion,  declared  his  disp>leasure  in  his  sternest  mood,  and 
with  greater  passion  than  such  an  offence  would  seem  to 
warrant;  saying,  "  that  he  would  none  of  his  servants  should 
bang  on  another  man's  sleeve,  and  that  he  was  as  well  able 
to  maintain  him  as  the  Duke  of  Buckingham ;  and  what 
might  be  thought  by  his  departing,  and  what  might  be  sup- 
posed by  the  Duke's  retaining  [him] ,  he  would  not  then 
declare.  The  knight,"  continues  Hall,  "  kneeled  still  on  his 
knees,  crying  the  King's  mercy,  and  never  a  nobleman  there 
durst  entreat  for  him,  the  King  was  so  highly  displeased  with 
him."  Yet  Sir  William  was  pardoned,  and  his  offence  so  far 
forgotten  that  he  was  appointed  to  attend  the  interview,  "  in 
the  King's  wages,"  commanding  a  body  of  light  horse,  specially 
appointed  to  secure  the  King's  person  from  surprise.^  The 
Duke  was  also  taken  into  favour.  Nor  can  I  find  any  indica- 
tion that  Wolsey  at  this  time  employed  his  great  influence  to 
injure  Buckingham,  unless  the  omission  of  the  Duke's  name 
from  the  lists  of  those  who  were  appointed  to  take  an  active 


'  Chron.  p.  599.  other  offenders  also  mentioned  by  Hall, 

^  See  III.  p.  239.     His  name  occurs  Sir   Matthew    Brown    and   the    Lord 

among  those  of  the  gentlemen  of  York-  Howard,  were  also  at  Arde  (pp.  236, 

shire  appointed  to   attend  the  King  238,   241)  ;    the  former  attending  on 

(lb.,  pp.  237,  241,  248).     Two  of  the  the  Queen  (p.  245). 


1520.]  THE   EMPEROR'S   VISIT.  345 

l^art  in  the  tournament  be  considered  as  an  evidence  of  the 
Cardinal's  malice.^ 

The  King  and  Queen  started  for  the  sea-side  on  Monday 
the  21st  of  May.  On  Friday  the  25th  they  arrived  at  Canter- 
bury. On  the  26th  news  came  that  the  Emperor's  fleet  was 
in  sight.  The  same  evening  Charles  landed  at  Dover,  and 
was  received  by  the  Cardinal.  "In  his  retinue,"  says  Hall, 
"  were  many  noble  men,  and  many  fair  ladies  of  his  blood,  as 
princes  and  princesses ;  and  one  lady  as  chief  to  be  noted 
was  the  Princess  Avinion.  Great  joy  made  the  people  of 
England  to  see  the  Emperor,  and  more  to  see  the  benign 
manner  and  meekness  of  so  high  a  prince." 

On  hearing  of  the  Emperor's  arrival,  the  King  rode  over  to 
Dover  early  in  the  morning.  On  Whit- Sunday  both  sovereigns 
took  horse  for  Canterbury,  "the  more  to  solempne  the  feast 
of  Pentecost.  But  specially  to  see  the  Queen  of  England,  his 
aunt,  was  the  intent  of  the  Emperor." 

On  Thursday,  the  last  day  of  May,  the  Emperor  embarked 
at  Sandwich  for  Flanders,^ 

What  projects  occupied  the  two  monarchs  in  that  solitary 
ride  from  Dover  to  Canterbury,  we  are  not  likely  to  know. 
Too  secret  to  be  trusted  to  the  ordinary  channels  of  negocia- 
tion,  they  were  of  too  grave  a  nature  to  be  discussed  before 
witnesses.  Even  Wolsey  himself  appears  to  have  taken  no 
part  in  them.  Eye-witnesses  and  historians  of  the  times  have 
been  careful  to  detail  the  ceremonies  connected  with  the 
Emperor's  landing ;  his  cloth  of  estate,  his  black  eagle 
"  splayed  in  cloth  of  gold."  The  moderation,  not  to  say 
meagreness,  of  his  dress  and  equipage,  disproportioned  to  his 
rank,  as  they  thought,  and  unlike  the  magnificence  to  which 
they  had  been  accustomed  in  England,  have  all  been  duly 
recorded.  His  fair  complexion,  his  aquiline  nose  and  blue 
eyes,  his  pallid  face  set  off  with  an  under-hanging  jaw, 
detracting  much  from  the  general  intelligence  of  his  counte- 
nance, his  mouth  disfigured  by  small  and  irregular  teeth,  are 
subjects  of  history.  But  of  the  secret  motives  of  his  visit,  of 
his  meeting  with  Katharine  and  the  Princess  Mary — if  indeed 

*  Yet  this  omission  may  have  arisen  Holinslied;  and  Holinshed's  account 
from  the  Duke's  determination  never  is  made  up  from  two  distinct  and  con- 
to  run  against  the  King : — on  the  tradictory  authorities,  Hall  and  Poly- 
Kinp's  side  he  appears  never  to  have  dore  Vergil.  To  the  latter  wo  owo 
lun  at  any  time,  much  as  he  desired  most  of  the  popular  culumuies  against 
it.  'J"he  liistorical  (•lenient  in  Sliake-  the  Cardinal, 
speare's  Jieury  V  III.  was  derived  from  ^  Hall's  Chron.,  p.  604. 


346  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D.  1520. 

slie  was  presented  to  her  proposed  husband — no  information  is 
afforded.  This  much,,  in  the  absence  of  more  satisfactory  data, 
may  be  assumed  as  the  true  purpose  of  the  Emperor's  coming. 
It  is  not  probable  that  he  would  have  taken  so  long  a  journey, 
or  left  Spain  then  on  the  eve  of  a  rebellion,  merely  out  of  love 
to  the  King  and  Queen  of  England.  If  at  so  momentous  a 
crisis  he  had  resolved  on  visiting  his  Flemish  dominions,  it 
was  not  to  be  present  at  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  or 
honour  with  his  presence  the  sumptuous  preparations  of  his 
rival.  Unable  to  prevent  that  meeting,  uncertain  of  its  con- 
sequences, by  his  refusal  as  the  head  of  Christendom  to  take 
any  part  in  it  he  contrived  to  condemn  it  indirectly ;  by  his 
proximity  to  the  scene,  to  neutralize  all  the  advantages 
expected  from  it  by  the  French  King. 

Nor  was  this  all.  Uncertain  how  far  the  fascination  and 
chivalrous  frankness  of  Francis  I.  and  the  tact  of  his  mother 
Louise  might  influence  the  King  and  the  Cardinal,  by  abiding 
for  a  time  in  Flanders  the  Emperor  would  be  better  able  to 
keep  them  steady  to  his  interests ;  or  at  least  he  would  be 
near  at  hand  to  remedy  the  mischief,  if  mischief  should 
arise. 

So  fenced,  prepared,  and  watched,  Henry  proceeded  to  his 
interview  with  the  French  King ;  not  in  that  unguarded,  care- 
less humour  which  some  writers  have  surmised ;  nor  yet  bent 
on  pleasure  merely,  or  the  display  of  his  personal  splendour 
and  accomj)lishments.  The  reserve  that  marked  his  conduct 
on  more  than  one  occasion,  as  compared  with  the  freer  bearing 
of  his  rival,  is  not  to  be  attributed  to  haughtiness  alone  or 
insular  exclusiveuess.  Nor,  on  the  part  of  Francis  I.,  was  his 
frank  violation  of  tedious  ceremony,  or  his  romantic  display  of 
generous  confidence,  entirely  free  from  interested  motives. 
He  had  his  purpose  to  serve,  no  less  than  Charles  ;  and  both 
regulated  their  actions  accordingly. 


o 


47 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD. 

On  the  day  of  the  Emperor's  departure,  the  King  sailed  from 
Dover,  and  arrived  at  Calais  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon, 
remaining  there  until  Monday,  the  4th  of  June,  when  he 
removed  to  Guisnes.  Situated  in  a  flat  and  uninviting  plain 
— poor  and  barren,  as  the  uncultivated  border-land  of  the  two 
kingdoms — Guisnes  and  its  castle  offered  little  attraction,  and 
if  possible  less  accommodation,  to  the  gay  throng  now  to  be 
gathered  within  its  walls.  Its  weedy  moat  and  dismantled 
battlements,  "its  keep  too  ruinous  to  mend,"^  defied  the 
efforts  of  carpenters  and  bricklayers,  as  the  English  commis- 
sioners pathetically  complained ;  and, could  not  by  any  artifice 
or  contrivance  be  made  to  assume  the  appearance  of  a  for- 
midable, or  even  a  respectable,  fortress  to  friend  or  enemy. 
But  on  the  castle  green,  within  the  limits  of  a  few  weeks,  and 
in  the  face  of  great  difficulties,  the  English  artists  of  that  day 
contrived  a  summer  palace,  more  like  a  vision  of  romance,  the 
creation  of  some  fairy  dream  (if  the  accounts  of  eye-witnesses 
of  all  classes  may  be  trusted),  than  the  dull  every-day  reality 
of  clay-born  bricks  and  mortar.  No  "  palace  of  art  "  in  these 
beclouded  climates  of  the  West  ever  so  truly  deserved  its  name. 
As  if  the  imagination  of  the  age,  pent  up  in  wretched  alleys 
and  narrow  dwelling-houses,  had  resolved  for  once  to  throw  off 
its  ordinary  trammels,  and  recompense  itself  for  its  long 
restraint,  it  prepared  to  realize  those  visions  of  enchanted 
bowers  and  ancient  pageantry  on  which  it  had  fed  so  long  in 
the  fictions  and  romances  of  the  Middle  Ages.  As  it  was  the 
last  display  of  this  kind  which  I  shall  have  to  notice,  as  it 
faded  rapidly  away  before  the  sterner  work  in  which  men  soon 
after  found  themselves  engaged,  with  or  against  their  wills,  I 
have  thought  it  worth  while  to  notice  so  much  of  the  details 
as  will  enable  the  reader  to  form  some  slight  conception  for 

'  in.  700. 


348  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

himself  of  this  scene  of  enchantment  which  the  genius  of  the 
age  had  contrived  for  its  own  amusement. 

The  pahice  was  an  exact  square  of  328  feet.  It  was  pierced 
on  every  side  with  oriel  windows  and  clerestories  curiously 
glazed,  the  mullions  and  posts  of  which  were  overlaid  with 
gold.  An  embattled  gate,  ornamented  on  both  sides  with 
statues  representing  men  in  various  attitudes  of  war,  and 
flanked  by  an  embattled  tower,  guarded  the  entrance.  From 
this  gate  to  the  entrance  of  the  palace  arose  in  long  ascent  a 
sloping  dais  or  hall-pace,  along  which  were  grouped  "  images 
of  sore  and  terrible  countenances,"  in  armour  of  argentine  or 
bright  metal.  At  the  entrance,  under  an  embowed  landing 
place,  facing  the  great  doors,  stood  "  antique "  (classical) 
figures  girt  with  olive  branches.  The  passages,  the  roofs  of  the 
galleries  from  place  to  place  and  from  chamber  to  chamber, 
were  ceiled  and  covered  with  white  silk,  fluted  and  embowed  with 
silken  hanging  of  divers  colours  and  braided  cloths,  "  which 
showed  like  bullions  of  fine  burnished  gold."  The  roofs  of  the 
chambers  were  studded  with  roses,  set  in  lozenges,  and  diapered 
on  a  ground  of  fine  gold.  Panels  enriched  with  antique  carving 
and  gilt  bosses  covered  the  spaces  between  the  windows  ; 
whilst  all  along  the  corridors  and  from  every  window  hung 
tapestry  of  silk  and  gold,  embroidered  with  figures.  Chairs 
covered  with  cushions  of  Turkey  work,  cloths  of  estate,  of 
various  shapes  and  sizes,  overlaid  with  golden  tissue  and  rich 
embroidery,  ornamented  the  state  apartments.  The  square 
on  every  side  was  decorated  with  equal  richness,  and  blazed 
with  the  same  profusion  of  glass,  gold,  and  ornamental  hang- 
ings ;  and  "  every  quarter  of  it,  even  the  least,  was  a  habita- 
tion fit  for  a  prince,"  says  Fleuranges,  who  had  examined  it 
with  the  critical  eye  of  a  rival  and  a  Frenchman. 

To  the  palace  was  attached  a  spacious  chapel,  still  more 
sumptuously  adorned.  Its  altars  were  hung  with  cloth  of 
gold  tissue  embroidered  with  pearls  ;  cloth  of  gold  covered  the 
walls  and  desks.  Basins,  censers,  cruets,  and  other  vessels, 
of  the  same  precious  materials,  lent  their  lustre  to  its  services. 
On  the  high  altar,  shaded  by  a  magnificent  canopy  of  immense 
proportions,  stood  enormous  candlesticks  and  other  ornaments 
of  gold.  Twelve  golden  images  of  the  Apostles,  as  large  as 
children  of  four  years  old,  astonished  the  eyes  of  the  spectator. 
The  copes  and  vestments  of  the  officiating  clergy  were  cloth  of 
tissue  powdered  with  red  roses,  brought  from  the  looms  of 
Florence,  and  woven  in  one  piece,  thickly  studded  with  gold 


1520.]  THE   FIELD   OF   THE   CLOTH   OF   GOLD.  349 

and  jewelry.  No  less  profusion  might  be  seen  in  the  two 
closets  left  apart  for  the  King  and  the  Queen.  Images  and 
sacred  vessels  of  solid  gold,  in  gold  cloth,  cumbrous  with 
pearls  and  precious  stones,  attested  the  rank,  the  magnificence, 
and  devotion  of  the  occupants.  The  ceilings  of  these  closets 
were  gilded  and  painted ;  the  hangings  were  of  tapestry  em- 
broidered with  fretwork  of  pearls  and  gems.  The  chapel  was 
served  by  thirty-five  priests,  and  a  proportionate  number  of 
singing  boys. 

From  the  palace  a  secret  gallery  led  into  a  private  apart- 
ment in  Guisnes  Castle,  along  which  the  royal  visitors  could 
pass  and  repass  at  pleasure. 

The  King  was  attended  by  squires  of  the  body,  sewers, 
gentlemen-ushers,  grooms  and  pages  of  the  chamber  ;  for  all 
of  whom  suitable  accommodation  had  to  be  provided.^  The 
lord  Chamberlain,  the  lord  Steward,  the  lord  Treasurer  of  the 
Household,  the  Comptroller,  with  their  numerous  staffs,  had  to 
be  lodged  in  apartments  adapted  to  their  rank  and  services. 
As  it  was  one  great  object  of  the  interview  to  entertain  all 
comers  with  masques  and  banquetings  of  the  most  sumptuous 
kind,  the  mere  rank  and  file  of  inferior  officers  and  servants 
formed  a  colony  of  themselves.  The  bakehouse,  pantry,  cellar, 
buttery,  kitchen,  larder,  accatry,  were  amply  provided  with 
ovens,  ranges,  and  culinary  requirements ;  to  say  nothing  of 
the  stables,  the  troops  of  grooms,  farriers,  saddlers,  stirrup- 
makers,  furbishers,  and  footmen.  Upwards  of  two  hundred 
attendants  were  employed  in  and  about  the  kitchen  alone. ^ 

Outside  the  palace  gate,  on  the  green  sward,  stood  a  gilt 
fountain,  of  antique  workmanship,  with  a  statue  of  Bacchus 
"  birlyng  the  wine."  Three  runlets,  fed  by  secret  conduits 
hid  beneath  the  earth,  spouted  claret,  hypocras,  and  water 
into  as  many  silver  cups,  to  quench  the  thirst  of  all  comers. 
On  the  opposite  side  was  a  pillar  wreathed  with  gold,  and 
supported  by  four  gilt  lions  ;  and  on  the  top  stood  an  image  of 
blind  Cupid,  armed  with  bow  and  arrows.     The  gate  itself, 

'  There    were    no    less    than    18  -  The  provisions  consumed  in  the 

grooms  of  the  chamber,  2  knit^hts,  5  household    in    one    month    consisted, 

squires    of   the    body,    11    gentlemen  among    other    items,    of    340    beeves, 

ushers,    with    others,    in    immediate  2,200  sheep,  800  calves  ;   150  tuns  of 

attendance    on    the    King's    person ;  French   wines,   4  pipes  of  hypocras, 

whilst,    of    the    Queen's    suite,    thero  560  tuns  of  boor ;  spicos  to  the  worth 

were  only  3  persons  appointed  for  the  of    440J.  ;    and    for    fuel    and    light, 

chamber,  called  chamherers,  and  14  or  4,000  lb.  of  wax  and  5,()00  qrs.  of  roal 

15  ladies,  called    ;ientlewomen,  whose  are  set  down.     The  cost  was  7,U3iJi, 

duties  are  not  deQued.  See  III.  p.  337. 


350  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

built   in   massive   style,   was   pierced  with   loop-holes.      Its 
windows  and  recesses  were  filled  with  images  of  Hercules, 
Alexander,  and  other  ancient  worthies,  richly  gilt  and  painted. 
In  long  array,  in  the  plain  beyond,  2,800  tents  stretched  their 
white  canvas  before  the  eyes  of  the  spectator,  gay  with  the 
pennons,  badges,  and  devices  of  the  various  occupants ;  whilst 
miscellaneous  followers,  in  tens  of  thousands,   attracted   by 
profit  or  the  novelty  of  the  scene,  camped  on  the  grass  and 
fiUed  the  surrounding  slopes,  in  sj)ite  of  the  severity  of  provost- 
marshal  and  reiterated  threats  of   mutilation   and   chastise- 
ment.    Multitudes  from  the  French  frontiers,  or  the  populous 
cities  of  Flanders,  indifferent  to  the  political  significance  of  the 
scene,  swarmed  from  their  dingy   homes  to  gaze  on  kings, 
queens,  knights,  and  ladies  dressed  in  their  utmost  splendour. 
Beggars,  itinerant  minstrels,  vendors  of  provisions  and  small 
luxuries,  mixed  with  waggoners,  ploughmen,  labourers,  and 
the  motley  troop  of  camp  followers,  crowded  round,  or  stretched 
themselves  beneath  the  summer's  sun  on  bundles  of  straw  and 
grass,  in  drunken  idleness.     No  better  lodging  awaited  many 
a  gay  knight  and  lady  who  had  travelled  far  to  be  present  at 
the  spectacle,  and  were  obliged  to  content  themselves  with  such 
open-air  accommodation.      Backwards   and  forwards   surged 
the   excited   and  unwieldy  crowd  as  every  hour  brought  its 
fresh  contingent  of  curiosity  or  criticism,  in  the  shape  of  some 
new-comer  conspicuous  for  his  fantastic  bearing,  or  the  quaint 
fashion  of  his  armour.     Each  new  candidate  for  the  love  and 
honour  of  the   ladies,   for   popular   applause,    or  less   noble 
objects,   was   greeted  with    shouts   and   acclamations    as  he 
succeeded  in  distinguishing  himself  from  the  throng  by  the 
strangeness  or  splendour  of  his  appointments.     Christendom 
had  never  witnessed  such  a  scene.     The  fantastic  usages  of 
the  Courts  of  Love  and  Beauty  were  revived  once  more.     The 
Mediaeval  age  had  gathered  up  its  departing  energies  for  this 
last  display  of  its  favourite  pastime — henceforth  to  be  con- 
signed, without  regret,  to  "the  mouldered  lodges  of  the  past." 
At  the  time  that  Henry  set  sail  for  Calais  Francis  started 
from  Montreuil  for  Arde.     It  was  a  meagre  old  town,  long 
since  in  ruins  ;  the  fosses  and  castle  of  which  had  been  hastily 
repaired.    He  was  attended  on  his  route  by  a  vast  and  motley 
multitude.     No  less  than  10,000  of  this  poor  vagrant  crew 
were  compelled  to  turn  back,  by  a  proclamation  ordering  that 
no  person,  without  special  permission,  should  approach  within 
two  leagues  of  the  King's  train,  "  on  pain  of  the  halter."     As 


1520.]  THE   FIELD   OF   THE   CLOTH   OF   GOLD.  351 

the  French  had  proposed  that  both  parties  should  lodge  in 
tents  erected  on  the  field,  they  had  prepared  numerous 
pavilions,  fitted  up  with  halls,  galleries,  and  chambers,  orna- 
mented within  and  without  with  gold  and  silver  tissue.  Amidst 
golden  balls  and  quaint  devices  glittering  in  the  sun,  rose  a 
gilt  figure  of  St.  Michael,  conspicuous  for  his  blue  mantle 
powdered  with  golden  ficurs-de-lis,  and  crowning  a  royal 
pavilion,  of  vast  dimensions,  supported  by  a  single  mast.  In 
his  right  hand  he  held  a  dart,  in  his  left  a  shield  emblazoned 
with  the  arms  of  France.  Inside,  the  roof  of  the  pavilion 
represented  the  canopy  of  heaven,  ornamented  with  stars  and 
figures  of  the  zodiac.^  The  lodgings  of  the  Queen,  of  the 
Duchess  d'Alen^on,  the  King's  favourite  sister,  and  of  other 
ladies  and  princes  of  the  blood,  were  covered  with  cloth  of 
gold.^  The  rest  of  the  tents,  to  the  number  of  300  or  400, 
emblazoned  with  the  arms  of  the  owners,  were  pitched  on  the 
banks  of  a  small  river  outside  the  city  walls.  A  large  house 
in  the  town,  built  for  the  occasion,  served  as  a  place  of 
reception  for  royal  visitors. 

From  the  4tli  of  June,  when  Henry  first  entered  Guisnes, 
the  festivities  continued  with  unabated  splendour  for  twenty 
days.  They  were  opened  by  a  visit  of  Wolsey  to  the  French 
King,  and  gave  the  Cardinal  an  opportunity  for  displaying 
his  love  of  magnificence,  not  unaptly  reckoned  by  poets  and 
philosophers  as  the  nearest  virtue  to  magnanimity.^  A 
hundred  archers  of  the  guard,  followed  by  fifty  gentlemen  of 
his  household,  clothed  in  crimson  velvet  with  chains  of  gold, 
bareheaded,  bonnet  in  hand,  and  mounted  on  magnificent 
horses  richly  caparisoned,  led  the  way.  After  them  came 
fifty  gentlemen  ushers,  also  bareheaded,  carrying  gold  maces 
with  knobs  as  big  as  a  man's  head ;  next  a  cross-bearer  in 
scarlet,  supporting  a  crucifix  adorned  with  precious  stones. 
Four  lacqueys  followed,  with  gilt  batons  and  poleaxes,  in 
paletots  of  crimson  velvet,  their  bonnets  in  hand  adorned  with 
plumes,  their  coats  ornamented  before  and  behind  with  the 
Cardinal's  badge  in  goldsmith's  work.  Lastly  came  the 
Legate  himself,  mounted  on  a  barded  mule  trapped  in  crimson 
velvet,  with   gold   front-stalls,   studs,  buckles,  and   stirrups. 

'  This    pavilion    was     aftorwards  Faiirio  Qiioen,  as  tlio  most  royal  ,and 

blown  down  in  a  ^alo  of  wind,  and  the  complete  of  all    Iminan  vii'tiics  : — hut 

uiast  broken.      Sf!0  III.  p.  ;J08.  tho  Tudor  concoption  of  ina^nificeuoo 

'  There  can  bo  no  doubt  that  Ann  lias    since    disai)[)earod   and  died   out 

Boloyn  was  at  this  interview.  before  tho  /xiKpotpux'ta  of  puritauiaui. 

*  Accoanted    Ijy    Sjionser,    in    hia 


352  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

Over  a  chimere  of  figured  crimson  velvet  he  wore  a  fine  linen 
rochet.  Bishops  and  other  ecclesiastics  succeeded,  and  the 
whole  procession  was  brought  up  by  fifty  archers  of  the  King's 
guard,  their  bows  bent,  their  quivers  at  their  sides,  their 
jackets  of  red  cloth  adorned  with  a  gold  rose  before  and 
behind.^ 

In  this  state  the  procession  approached  the  town  of  Arde. 
Arrived  at  the  King's  lodgings  Wolsey  dismounted,  amidst  the 
roar  of  artillery,  and  the  sound  of  drums,  trumpets,  fifes,  and 
other  instruments  of  music.  He  was  received  by  the  King  of 
France,  bonnet  in  hand,  with  the  greatest  demonstrations  of 
affection.  The  visit  was  returned  next  day  by  the  French. 
These  ceremonies  were  preliminary  to  the  meeting  of  the  two 
sovereigns  on  Thursday,  the  7th  of  June.  On  that  day,  the 
King  of  England,  apparelled  in  cloth  of  silver  damask,  thickly 
ribbed  with  cloth  of  gold,  and  mounted  on  a  charger  arrayed 
in  the  most  dazzling  trappings  overlaid  with  fine  gold  and 
curiously  wrought  in  mosaic,  advanced  towards  the  valley  of 
Arde.  No  man,  from  personal  inclination  or  personal  qualities, 
was  better  calculated  to  sustain  his  part  in  a  brilliant  cere- 
monial such  as  then  struck  the  eyes  of  the  spectators.  An 
admirable  horseman,  tall  and  muscular,  slightly  inclined  to  cor- 
pulence, with  a  red  beard  and  ruddy  countenance,  Henry  VIH. 
was  at  this  time,  by  the  admission  of  his  rivals,  the  most 
comely  and  commanding  prince  of  his  age.^  Closely  attend- 
ing on  the  King  was  Sir  Henry  Guildford,  the  master  of  the 
Horse,  leading  a  spare  charger,  not  less  splendidly  arrayed 
in  trappings  of  fine  gold  wrought  in  ciphers,  with  headstall, 
reins,   and   saddle  of  the   same   material.     Nine   henchmen 

*  The  pomp  and  the  splendour  of  among  the  potentates  of  Christendom, 

his  retinue  on  this  occasion  were  often  It  was  the  purpose  of  this  interview 

urged  against  Wolsey  as  a  proof  of  his  to  show  him  to  the  world,  surrounded 

pride  and    presumption.     It  must  be  by  all  those  accessories  to  which  the 

remembered,    however,    that   he   was  imagination  of  nine-tenths  of  mankind 

acting  as  proctor  and  representative  at    that   time    lent    itself   a    willing 

of    two   kings.     As   their   accredited  prisoner.  Railway  scrip,  or  a  supposed 

representative  in  the  eyes  of  the  most  balance  at  a  man's  bankers',  eiiects 

chivalrous  and  magnificent  nation  in  that  object  now. 

the  world,  acknowledged  universally,  ^  "  The  most  goodliest  prince  that 

even  then,  as  supreme  in  all  matters  ever  reigned  over  the  realm  of  Eng- 

of    art,    dress,    decoration,    or   public  land."      Hall,   p.    609.      So    also    the 

pageantry,  he  might  wish  to  show  that  French  accounts :  "  Le  roy  d' Angleterre 

his  master,  the  King  of  France  as  well  est  moult  beau   prince,  efc  honneste, 

as   of    England,  did    not  fall    a   whit  hault  et  droit ;  sa  maniere  doulce  et 

behind  the  most  splendid  monarch  of  benigne  :    ung   peu   grasset ;    et    une 

the  age.     For  the  time  being,  Wolsey  barbe  rousse,  assez   grande,  qui   Iny 

had  by  his  genius  raised  his  master  to  advient  tres  bien." 
the   first   rank    and    foremost    place 


1520.]  THE   FIELD   OF   THE   CLOTH   OF   GOLD.  353 

followed  in  cloth  of  tissue,  the  harness  of  their  horses  covered 
with  gold  scales.  In  front  rode  the  old  Marquis  of  Dorset, 
bearing  the  sword  of  estate  before  the  King ;  l)ehind  came  the 
Cardinal,  the  Dukes  of  Buckingham  and  Suffolk,  with  the 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury  and  others. 

A  shot  fired  from  the  castle  of  Guisnes,  and  responded  to 
by  a  shot  from  the  castle  at  Arde,  gave  warning  that  the  two 
princes  were  ready  to  set  forward.  As  Henry  advanced 
towards  the  valley  with  all  his  company  in  military  array,  the 
French  King  might  be  descried  on  the  oj)posite  hill  with  his 
dazzling  company,  in  dress,  deportment,  and  the  splendour  of 
his  retinue  not  less  glorious  or  conspicuous  than  his  rival. 
Over  a  short  cassock  of  gold  frieze,  he  wore  a  mantle  of  cloth 
of  gold  covered  with  jewels.  The  front  and  the  sleeves  were 
studded  with  diamonds,  rubies,  emeralds,  and  large  loose- 
hanging  pearls  ;  on  his  head  he  wore  a  velvet  bonnet  adorned 
with  plumes  and  precious  stones.  Far  in  advance  rode  the 
provost-marshal  with  his  archers  to  clear  the  ground.  Then 
followed  the  marshals  of  the  army  in  cloth  of  gold,  their  orders 
about  their  necks,  mounted  on  horses  covered  with  gold  trap- 
pings ;  next  the  grand  master,  the  princes  of  the  blood,  and 
the  King  of  Navarre.  After  them  came  the  Swiss  guard  on 
foot,  in  new  liveries,  with  their  drums,  flutes,  trumpets,  clarions, 
and  hautbois  ;  then  the  gentlemen  of  the  household  ;  and 
immediately  preceding  the  King  was  the  grand  constable, 
Bourbon,  bearing  the  sword  naked,  and  the  Grand  Ecuyer, 
with  the  sword  of  France,  powdered  with  gold  fie lu-s-de-lis. 

As  the  two  companies  approached  each  other,  there  was  a 
momentary  pause.  The  French  watched  with  some  jealousy 
the  close  array  of  the  English  footmen,  who,  stretched  in  a 
long  line  on  the  King's  left,  marched  step  for  step  with  all  the 
solemn  gravity  of  their  nation,  as  if  they  were  rather  preparing 
for  battle  than  pastime  ;  whilst,  on  the  other  side,  the  superior 
numbers  of  the  French  awakened  the  national  jealousy  of  the 
Englishmen.  "  Sir,  ye  be  my  king  and  sovereign,"  broke  in 
the  Lord  Abergavenny  in  breathless  haste  ;  "wherefore,  above 
all  I  am  bound  to  show  you  truth,  and  not  to  let  (stop)  for 
none.  I  have  been  in  the  French  party,  and  they  be  more  in 
number; — double  so  many  as  ye  be."  Then  spoke  up  the 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  "  Sire,  whatever  my  lord  of  Abergavenny 
sayeth,  I  myself  have  been  there,  and  the  Frenchmen  be  more 
in  fear  of  you  and  your  subjects  than  your  subjects  be  of  them. 
Wherefore,"  said  the  Earl,  "  if  I  were  worthy  to  give  counsel. 

VOL.   I.  2  v 


354  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [AD. 

your  grace  should  march  forward."  "  So  we  intend,  my 
lord,"  rejilied  the  King.  "On  afore,  my  masters,"  shouted 
the  officers  of  arms ;  and  the  whole  company  halted,  face 
foremost,  close  by  the  valley  of  Arde. 

A  minute's  pause — a  breathless  silence,  followed  by  a  slight 
stir  on  both  sides.  Then  from  the  dense  array  of  cloth  of 
gold,  silver,  and  jewelry,  of  white  plumes  and  waving  pennons, 
amidst  the  acclamations  of  myriads  of  spectators  on  the  sur- 
rounding hills,  and  the  shrill  burst  of  pipes,  trumpets  and 
clarions,  two  horsemen  were  seen  to  emerge,  and,  in  the  sight 
of  both  nations,  slowly  descend  into  the  valley  from  opposite 
sides.  These  were  the  two  sovereigns.  As  they  approached 
nearer  they  sjuirred  their  horses  to  a  gallop  ;  then  uncovering, 
embraced  each  other  on  horseback,  and  after  dismounting 
embraced  again.  Whilst  the  two  sovereigns  proceeded  arm 
in  arm  to  a  rich  pavilion — which  no  one  else  was  allowed  to 
enter,  except  Wolsey  on  one  side  and  the  Admiral  of  France 
on  the  other — the  officers  on  both  sides,  intermingling  their 
ranks,  made  good  cheer,  and  toasted  each  other  in  broken 
French  and  English  :   "  Bons  amys,  French  and  English  !  "  ^ 

Friday  and  Saturday  were  occupied  in  preparing  the  field 
for  the  tournament.  The  lists,  900  feet  in-  length  and  320 
feet  broad,  were  pitched  on  a  rising  ground  in  the  territory  of 
Guisnes,  about  halfway  between  Guisnes  and  Arde.  Galleries 
hung  with  tapestry  surrounded  the  inclosure,  and,  on  the 
right  side  in  the  place  of  honour,  were  two  glazed  chambers 
for  the  two  Queens.  A  deep  foss  served  to  keep  off  the  crowd. 
The  entrances  were  guarded  by  twelve  French  and  twelve 
English  archers  ;  and  at  the  foot  of  the  lists,  under  a  triumphal 
arch,  stood  the  perron,  or  tree  of  nobility,  from  which  the 
shields  of  the  two  Kings  were  suspended  on  a  higher  line  than 
those  of  the  other  challengers  and  answerers.  The  perron 
for  Henry  VIII.  was  formed  of  a  hawthorn  ;  and  for  Francis  I., 
of  a  raspberry  {framhoisier) ,  in  supposed  allusion  to  his  name. 
Cloth  of  gold  served  for  the  trunk  and  dried  leaves  ;  the  foliage 
was  of  green  silk  ;  the  flowers  and  fruits  of  silver  and  Venetian 
gold.  Under  the  tree,  which  measured  in  compass  not  less 
than  129  feet,  the  heralds  took  their  stand  on  an  artificial 
mound,  surrounded  by  railings  of  green  damask. 

On  Sunday,  whilst  the  French  King  dined  at  Guisnes  with 
the   Queen   of  England,  the   English    King   dined  with   the 

'  "Disoient  ces  parolles  :  Bons  repetant  plusieurs  foys  en  beuvant 
amys,    Francoys   et    Angloys,    en    les       lung  a  laultre  de  bon  couraige." 


1520.]  THE   FIELD   OF   THE    CLOTH   OF   GOLD.  3~)5 

French  Queen  and  the  Duchess  of  Alen9on  at  Arde.  On 
arriving  at  the  Queen's  lodgings,  Henry  was  received  by 
Louise  of  Savoy,  and  a  bevy  of  ladies  magnificently  dressed. 
Passing  slowly  through  their  ranks,  in  leisurely  admiration  of 
their  charms,^  he  reached  the  apartment  where  the  Queen 
attended  his  coming.  .As  he  made  his  reverence  to  the  Queen, 
she  rose  from  her  chair  of  state  to  meet  him.  Kneeling  with 
one  knee  on  the  ground,  his  bonnet  in  his  hand,  he  first  kissed 
the  Queen,  nest  Madame,  then  the  Duchess  of  Alencon,  and 
finally  all  the  princesses  and  ladies  of  the  company.  This 
done,  dinner  was  announced.  At  the  third  service,  Mountjoy 
herald  entered  with  a  great  golden  goblet,  crying,  in  the  name 
of  the  King  of  England,  "  Largess  to  the  most  high,  mighty, 
and  excellent  prince,  Henry  King  of  England,  &c.  Largess, 
largess !  "  The  banquet  ended  at  five  in  the  evening,  when 
the  King  took  his  leave.  To  display  his  skill  before  the 
ladies,  he  set  spurs  to  his  horse,  making  it  bound  and  curvet 
"  as  valiantly  as  an}^  man  could  do." 

The  jousts  commenced  on  Monday  the  11th.  The  rules 
adopted  to  secm-e  fair  play  and  guard  against  accidents  may 
be  read  by  those  curious  in  such  matters  in  the  original  black- 
letter  "  Ordonnance,"  printed  at  the  time.^ 

On  the  first  day  the  Kings  of  England  and  France,  with 
their  aids,  held  the  lists  against  all  comers ;  and,  with  the 
exception  of  Wednesday,  when  the  wind  was  too  high,  the 
jousts  continued  without  interruption  throughout  the  week. 
On  Sunday  the  two  Kings  exchanged  hospitality  as  before. 
On  this  occasion  Francis,  dropping  all  reserve,  visited  the 
King  of  England  before  eight  in  the  morning,  attended  by 
four  companions  only,  and,  entering  his  apartment  without 
ceremony,  embraced  him  as  he  was  seated  at  breakfast.^  The 
jousts  were  concluded  in  the  following  week,  with  a  solemn 
mass  sung  by  the  Cardinal  in  a  chapel  erected  on  the  field. 
The  arrangements  observed  on  this  occasion,  not  less  elaborate 
than  those  by  which  the  feats  of  arms  were  regulated,  may  be 
read  in  the  same  volume  as  the  "Ordonnance."*  Here,  as 
in  the  ceremonial  of  the  lists,  the  spirit  of  chivalry  reigned 
triumphant.  When  the  Cardinal  of  Bourbon,  according  to 
the  usages  of  the  time,  presented  the  Gospel  to  the  French 

'  "  Tont  a  son  aise  pour  les  veoir  '  Thisstory  has  been  repeated  with 

j\  son  plaisir."  various  eniboUishnunits. 

*  Of    which    an    epitome    will    be  *  Sec  Calendar,  IIJ.  p.  .'511. 

found  in  the  Calendar,  III.  870. 


356  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

King  to  kiss,  Francis,  declining,  commanded  it  to  be  offered 
to  the  King  of  England,  who  was  too  well  bred  to  accept  the 
honour.  When  the  Pax  was  presented  at  the  Agnus  Dei,  the 
two  sovereigns  repeated  the  same  mannerly  breeding.  The 
two  Queens  were  equally  ceremonious.  After  a  polite  alter- 
cation of  some  minutes,  when  neither  would  decide  who  should 
be  the  first  to  kiss  the  Pax,  womanlike  they  kissed  each  other 
instead.  A  sermon  in  Latin,  enlarging  on  the  blessings  of 
peace,  was  delivered  by  Pace  at  the  close  of  the  service ;  and 
an  artificial  firework,  four  fathoms  long,  in  the  shape  of  a 
salamander,  was  sent  up  in  the  air  in  the  direction  of  Guisnes, 
to  the  astonishment  and  terror  of  the  beholders.  The  whole 
was  concluded  with  a  banquet,  at  which  the  royal  ladies,  too 
polite  to  eat,  spent  their  time  in  conversation  ;  but  the  legates, 
cardinals,  and  prelates  dined,  drank,  and  ate  sans  fiction,  in 
another  room  by  themselves. 

On  Sunday,  the  24th  of  June,  the  Kings  met  in  the  lists 
to  interchange  gifts  and  bid  each  other  farewell.  Henry  and 
his  court  left  for  Calais ;   Francis  returned  to  Abbeville. 

The  two  Kings  parted,  on  the  best  of  terms,  as  the  world 
thought,  and  with  mutual  feelings  of  regret.  Yet  Henry  had 
already  arranged  to  meet  the  Emperor  at  Gravelines,  there  to 
settle  the  terms  of  a  new  convention,  to  the  disadvantage  of 
the  French  King.^  The  imperial  envoy,  the  Marquis  d'Arschot, 
arrived  at  Calais  on  the  4th  of  July,  and  was  received  by  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham.  On  the  5th  the  King  visited  Grave- 
lines,  and  returned  with  the  Emperor  to  Calais  three  days 
after.  The  interview,  graced  by  the  presence  of  Charles,  his 
brother  Ferdinand,  Herman,  the  Archbishop  of  Cologne,  and 
the  Lord  Chievres,  though  less  splendid,  was  more  cordial  than 
the  interview  wdth  the  French  King,  and  was  meant  for 
business. 

Frugal  and  reserved,  the  Emperor  contrived,  by  his  simple 
and  unostentatious  habits,  to  render  himself  more  agreeable 
to  his  English  guests  than  even  Francis  had  been  able  to  do 
with  all  his  profuse  and  expensive  civilities.  Not,  as  some 
may  condemn  us,  in  consequence  of  our  national  fickleness  ; 
nor,  as  others  may  excuse  us,  because  Englishmen  preferred 
the  plainer  manners  of  the  German  or  the  Fleming ;  but 
because  in  the  interview  with  France,  in  spite  of  appearances, 
there  was  no  real  cordiality.  A  tournament,  in  fact,  was  the 
least  eligible  method  of  promoting  friendly  feeling ;  it  was 

»  See  III.  914,  seg. 


1520.]        INTERVIEW  WITH  CHARLES  AT   GRAYELINES.  357 

more  likely  to  engender  unpleasant  disputes  and  jealousies. 
To  enforce  the  rules  laid  down  for  preserving  order  and  fair 
play  among  the  combatants  was  not  an  easy  or  a  popular 
task.  National  rivahy  was  apt  to  break  out,  and  it  was  hard 
for  the  judges  to  escape  the  imputation  of  partiality.  Nor 
did  the  English,  it  must  be  admitted,  return  from  the  field 
in  much  good  humour.  With  a  feeling  of  complacency  en- 
gendered by  their  insular  position  and  their  long  isolation 
from  the  Continent,  they  had  been  wont  to  consider  them- 
selves as  far  superior  to  the  French  in  all  exercises  of  strength 
and  agility.  The  French  knights  had  shown  themselves  fully 
equal  to  their  English  opponents ;  the  French  King  was  not 
inferior  in  personal  courage  and  activity  to  his  English  rival.^ 
Then  rumours,  such  as  spring  up  like  the  dragon's  teeth  in 
vast  and  motley  multitudes,  evidently  fanned  and  fostered  by 
Flemish  emissaries,  continually  represented  the  French  as 
engaged  in  contriving  some  act  of  treachery  against  the 
English  King  and  nation.  Among  the  nobles,  also,  the  Dukes 
of  Suffolk  and  of  Buckingham,  the  Lord  Abergavenny  and 
others,  were  glad  of  any  pretext  for  maligning  a  pageant  of 
which  Wolsey  had  the  prime  direction. 

Francis  still  hovered  on  the  frontier  in  the  fruitless  hope 
of  being  invited  to  take  part  in  this  interview  with  the 
Emperor.  The  day  before  Charles  left  Ghent,  the  Lady 
Vendome  and  the  Duchess  her  daughter-in-law  contrived  to 
have  business  in  that  town ;  but  their  artifice  was  not  suc- 
cessful. Francis  was  obliged  to  content  himself  with  the 
assurance  that  the  visage  and  countenance  of  his  English  ally 
appeared  "  not  to  be  so  replenished  with  joy  "  as  at  the  valley 
of  Arde,^  and  that  he  had  given  proofs  of  undiminished  affec- 
tion by  riding  a  courser  that  Francis  had  given  him.  With 
an  impressiveness  intended  to  be  candid,  he  told  Sir  Eichard 
Wingfield,  who  had  succeeded  as  English  resident  at  the 
French  court,  that  "  if  the  king  Catholic  were  a  prince  of  like 
faith  unto  the  King  his  brother  (Henry),  and  that  he  might 
perceive  from  Wolsey  that  his  coming  thither  (to  Calais) 
might  be  the  cause  of  any  good  conclusion  between  them  " 
(that  is,  between  himself  and  the  Emperor),  "  he  would  not 
fail  to  come  in  post,  and  not  to  have  looked  for  rank  and 

'  Thus  Hall,  who  will  not  be  accused  and   so   well   acted    his  challenge  of 

of  partiality  to  the   French,  says   (p.  jousts,  that  he  ought  ever  to  be  sitoken 

61«)  :  "  The  French  King  on  his  part  of." 
ran  valiantly,  breaking  spears  eagerly,  ^  111.91;}. 


358  THE   REIGX   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

place  to  him  belonging,  but  would  have  put  him  into  the 
King's  chamber  as  one  of  the  number  of  the  same."  But 
neither  his  extreme  humility,  nor  his  flattering  proposal  that 
Henry  and  himself,  "  the  chief  pillars  of  Christendom," 
should  handle  the  Pope,  whom  Francis  knew  "to  be  at  some 
season  the  fearfullest  creature  of  the  world,  and  at  some  other 
to  be  as  brave,"  nor  the  schemes  and  blandishments  of  the 
ladies,  availed.  He  chafed  under  his  disappointment ;  still 
more  at  his  ill  success  in  counteracting  the  growing  intimacy 
of  Henry  and  the  Emperor.  He  had  exhausted  to  little 
purpose,  "  that  liberal  and  unsuspicious  confidence "  which 
too  credulous  historians  are  apt  to  think  characterized  his 
proceedings  at  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  to  the  dis- 
advantage of  his  less  attractive  and  engaging  contemporary. 
He  could  neither  prevent  the  meeting  of  his  two  rivals,  nor 
penetrate  their  secrets.  He  was  utterly  foiled,  yet  dared  not 
show  his  resentment.  "Whilst  the  Pope  and  the  Spaniards, 
unable  to  penetrate  beneath  the  surface,  or  read  the  signs  of 
the  times,  were  puzzled  and  scandalized  at  the  Emperor's 
condescension,  the  world  looked  on  with  astonishment,  as 
well  it  might,  to  see  the  two  monarchs  of  the  "West  thus 
anxiously  soliciting  the  Cardinal's  good  graces.  What  could 
there  be  in  the  son  of  a  butcher  to  command  such  deference  ?  ^ 
Of  the  projects  discussed  at  this  interview  we  are  not 
precisely  informed.  The  English  version,^  intended  for  the 
meridian  of  the  French  court,  and  to  lull  the  suspicions  of 
Francis,  is  the  only  account  we  possess.  If  any  credit  be  due  to 
a  statement  prepared  under  such  circumstances  and  calculated 
to  alienate  the  French  King  irrecoverably  from  the  Emperor, 
we  are  to  believe  that  the  imperial  ambassadors  had  already 
proposed  to  Henry  to  break  off  his  matrimonial  engagement 
with  France,  and  transfer  the  hand  of  the  Princess  Mary  to 
the  Emperor.  As  an  inducement  for  the  King  to  coincide  in 
this  arrangement,  the  Emperor  undertook  to  make  war  on 
France  by  sea  and  land,  and  not  desist  until  Henry  "had 
recovered  his  right  and  title  in  the  same."  ^  The  King, 
according  to  the  same  document,  rejected  such  a  teacherous 
overture  with  the  utmost  horror,  vehemently  protesting  against 
its  immorality  and  perfidiousness.  That  such  a  proposal  was 
made,   though   probably   not    by   Chievres,*  to   whom    it   is 

*  For  the  arrangements  at  this  in-  ^  HI.  936. 

terview,  see  the  Rutland  Papers,  p.  50.  •*  'Ibe  proposition  was  put  in  the 

^  See  III.  p.  346.  moulh   of   Chievres,  the  minister    of 


1520.]  MAKY'S   HAND   OFFERED   TO   CHARLES.  359 

attributed — that  it  was  accepted  by  England,  but  with  none 
of  the  indignation  described  in  the  document — is  clear  bej'ond 
dispute.  Long  before  any  interruption  had  occurred  in  the 
amicable  relations  between  the  two  countries,  before  even  the 
landing  of  Charles  at  Canterbury,  or  in  the  interview  in  the 
valley  of  Arde,  it  had  been  secretly  proposed  that  the  French 
engagement  should  be  set  aside,  and  the  hand  of  Mary  be 
transferred  to  the  Emperor.^  The  King's  horror  at  this  act 
of  faithlessness — if  it  had  any  existence  bej'Ond  the  paper  on 
which  it  was  written — must  have  been  tardj-  and  gratuitous, 
seeing  that  the  chief  purpose  of  the  meeting  at  Calais  was  to 
settle  the  basis  of  this  matrimonial  alliance,  and  obtain  the 
solemn  ratification  of  the  Emperor. 

But  Charles  was  in  no  hurry  to  commit  himself.  His 
indecision  was  the  result  rather  of  policy  than  of  temper.  As 
the  Princess  and  himself  were  within  the  prohibited  degrees  of 
relationship,  no  matrimonial  alliance  could  be  concluded 
between  them  without  a  papal  dispensation  : — a  pretext  fertile 
in  delay,  or,  should  his  interests  require  it,  spacious  and  con- 
venient for  retracting  his  engagements.  The  offer  of  his 
hand,  whether  made  in  sincerity  or  not  by  the  Emperor, 
served  his  purposes ;  it  kept  Henry  faithful  to  his  interests, 
and  opposed  an  effectual  barrier  to  the  blandishments  of 
France.  By  insisting  on  a  papal  disj)ensation,  the  Emperor 
reserved  for  himself  a  loophole  of  escape,  should  he  find  his 
union  with  Mary  inexpedient,  or  desire  to  extract  more 
advantageous  terms  from  his  future  father-in-law.  His 
matrimonial  projects  at  this  time  were  somewhat  complicated. 

He  had  bound  himself  by  the  most  solemn  obligations  to 
marrj'  the  Princess  Charlotte  of  France.  Her  continued  in- 
disposition, and  the  disinclination  of  his  Spanish  subjects  to 
the  match,  furnished  him  with  a  valid  excuse  for  breaking  his 
engagement.  To  gratify  himself  no  less  than  his  subjects, 
the  Emperor  was  already  turning  his  eyes  towards  a  matri- 
monial alliance  with  Portugal.  Next  perhaps  to  the  hand  of 
Mary,  such  an  alliance  offered  those  pecuniary  advantages  of 
which  Charles  at  this  time  stood  much  in  need.  His  troops 
were  in  a  state  of  disorder  and  insubordination  for  want  of 
pay.  They  could  neither  be  suffered  to  remain  where  they 
were,  nor  be  transferred  to  more  friendly  territories,  lest  by 
their  excesses  they  should  convert  friends  into  enemies.     His 

Charles  "V.,  because  he,  more  than  any       French  interests. 

other,   was   supposed    to   favour   the  '  Sec  III.  pp.  425,  -458. 


31)0  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

ambassadors  wanted  money  even  to  pay  their  couriers.  Of 
his  vast  dominions  in  the  old  world,  Spain,  in  a  state  of 
insurrection,  refused  to  submit  to  the  extortions  of  the  tax 
collectors.^  The  Flemings,  sulky  and  dissatisfied  with  the 
prodigality  of  the  court,  would  advance  no  funds  for  purposes 
and  projects  over  which  they  could  exercise  no  control.  Never 
wealthy,  jealous,  to  a  fault,  of  their  independence,  his  new 
German  subjects  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  his  entreaties ;  whilst 
Italj'',  plundered  alike  by  friend  and  foe,  was  in  no  condition 
to  relieve  his  increasing  necessities.  Master  of  the  most 
extensive  dominions  in  the  world,  Charles  was  the  least 
formidable  Prince  of  his  age.  As  Leo  X.  told  the  imperial 
ambassador,  his  master's  power  was  merely  negative :  it 
depended  on  his  opposition  to  French  aggrandizement,  which 
most  men  feared,  and  all  men  suspected.  As  for  the  rest, 
said  the  sagacious  Pontiff,  it  was  more  in  axDpearance  than 
reality. 

So  a  marital  alliance  with  England,  or  rather  the  aid 
which  so  rich  a  country  could  afford  him,  became  with  Charles 
a  state  necessity.  But  of  the  three  ladies  whom  he  had 
engaged  to  wed,  not  one  could  be  rejected  without  disastrous 
consequences.  On  Madame  Charlotte  depended  the  friendship 
of  France ;  on  the  Princess  Mary,  the  alliance  of  England  ; 
the  rejection  of  Isabella  of  Portugal  was  equivalent  to  the  loss 
of  some  millions  of  ducats.  It  was  his  policy,  therefore,  or 
that  of  his  ministers,  to  flatter  the  expectations  of  each  by 
turns,  and  reduce  none  to  absolute  despair.  La  Sauch  and 
Barroso  carried  on  the  negociations  with  Portugal — to  which 
his  own  sister,  of  course,  contributed  not  a  little  ;  the  Bishop 
of  Elna  kept  the  English  court  in  good  humour ;  whilst 
Chievres,  the  most  powerful  and  influential  of  his  advisers, 
whom  Wolsey  most  feared  and  hated,  not  without  cause, 
supported  his  interests  with  France. 

For  the  present,  negociations  languished  on  all  sides.  On 
liis  return  from  the  interviews  at  Guisnes  and  Calais,  Wolsey 
had  started  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Walsingham,  and  all  business 
was  suspended  in  his  absence.  The  King  spent  most  of  his 
time  in  hunting.'^     The  Emperor  was  occupied  in  preparing 

'  See  particularly  III.  976.     One  become  of   5,600,000   ducats  of  gold 

of  the  chief  causes  of  the  insurrection  and    other    monies   received   by    the 

was  the  prodigality  of  the  Emperor's  Emperor  since  the  death  of  Ferdinand 

Flemish    ministers.      The    insurgents  of  Arragon. 

insisted     upon     knowing    what     had  ^  "  There  is  no  other  news  here," 


1520.]  ENGLISH  JEALOUSY   OF  FRANCE.  861 

for  his  coronation  at  Aix-la-Chapelle.  As  for  France,  its 
relations  with  Enghind,  though  ostensibly  amiable,  were  ruffled 
by  various  incidents  which  boded  no  good  to  the  unit}^  of  the 
two  crowns.  Too  cautious,  if  not  too  politic,  to  express  his 
real  sentiments,  the  French  monarch  naturally  regarded  the 
late  interview  at  Calais  with  jealousy  and  distrust.  He  was 
too  well  informed  of  what  had  passed  not  to  harbour  resent- 
ment ;  too  sensible  of  his  danger  to  display  it.  A  vigorous  or 
angry  remonstrance  would  have  given  England  an  excuse  for 
throwing  herself  at  once  into  the  arms  of  the  Emperor.  If 
that  step  could  not  be  entirely  averted,  every  hour's  delay  was 
an  advantage.  A  seeming  friendship,  however  flimsy  and 
hollow,  was  better  than  a  declaration  of  open  hostility.  A 
show  of  undiminished  amity  with  England  served  to  intimidate 
the  Pope,  and  keep  in  awe  the  secondary  powers  of  Christen- 
dom, who  were  only  too  ready  to  declare  against  him.  The 
task,  as  might  be  supposed,  was  a  hard  one ;  it  was  in  danger 
of  being  frustrated  every  hour  by  some  unforeseen  accident, 
by  some  trifle,  weak  as  air,  invested  with  exaggerated  propor- 
tions by  the  jealousy  of  the  two  courts,  or  the  mercantile 
rivaky  of  the  two  nations.  At  the  meeting  in  the  valley  of 
Arde,  Francis  had  taken  an  opportunity  of  putting  the 
ruinous  defences  of  that  town  into  better  condition.  The 
work  had  been  continued  when  the  interview  was  over.  Eager 
to  take  offence,  Henry  complained.  He  ordered  his  ambas- 
sadors to  remonstrate.  The  French  were  indignant :  such  a 
proceeding,  they  said,  was  "  very  strange  ;  "  and  the  ambas- 
sadors must  have  exceeded  their  commission.  The  defences, 
they  averred,  were  necessary  for  the  security  of  the  King's 
person ;  for  the  loj' alty  and  obedience  of  his  subjects  on  the 
frontiers.  The  English  Court  doggedly  refused  to  entertain 
"  this  strange  overture,"  as  they  termed  it.  They  urged  that 
no  fortifications  had  been  erected  at  Arde  ever  since  they  were 
razed,  either  in  this  King's  reign  or  in  that  of  his  predecessor  ; 
therefore,  "  it  was  right  strange  under  the  color  of  this  inter- 
view that  the  French  should  attempt  to  do  what  might  annoy 
the  King's  subjects,  and  put  them  in  suspicion  of  living  in 
trouble  rather  than  in  quietness."  With  remonstrances  that 
looked  like  menaces  they  mingled  gentler  expostulations. 
Such  works,  they  said,  could  be  of  no  advantage  to  the 
French  King;  the  friendship  of  England  was  a  better  pro- 

writea  Tanstal  to  Wolsey,  then  on  his       continual  hunting."     Aug.  18. 
journey,    "  but   goodly    pastimes   and 


362  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

tection  than  walls  or  bulwarks.  If,  however,  Francis  persisted 
in  this  course,  Englishmen  would  be  faintly  encouraged  to 
take  his  part,  so  much  they  murmured  at  these  i^roceedings.-^ 

The  town  of  Arde  was  as  much  a  part  of  the  French 
dominions  as  Calais  was  of  England  ;  and  Henry  would  have 
deemed  it  strange  and  unwarrantable  if,  even  under  the  pre- 
tence of  amity,  Francis  had  protested  against  similar  repairs 
at  Guisnes  or  Calais.  The  dispute  grew  warm ;  the  King  of 
England  and  his  minister  were  resolute ;  at  last  Francis 
yielded.  The  fortifications  of  Arde  were  abandoned,  and  by 
the  1st  of  October,  as  Sandys  wrote  to  Wolsey,^  not  a  workman 
or  pioneer  was  to  be  found  in  the  place. 

Whilst  these  causes  for  irritation  arose  to  disturb  the 
amity  of  the  two  Kings,  and  the  Emperor  was  occupied  at 
Gravelines  in  making  himself  agreeable  to  his  new  allies, 
his  subjects  in  Spain,  taking  advantage  of  his  absence,  rose  in 
rebellion  under  Don  Juan  Padilla.  The  enthusiasm  inspired 
by  the  insurrection,  the  celerity  with  which  it  spread  among 
the  commons,  indicate  some  deeper  and  more  abiding  cause 
of  disaffection  than  the  greed  of  the  Emperor's  Flemish 
ministers,  to  whose  rapacity  and  insolence  it  has  been 
generally  attributed.  But  I  have  only  to  consider  the  fact  in 
its  more  immediate  relation  to  those  events  which  determined 
the  policy  of  England.  Whilst  the  whole  energies  of  Charles 
were  taxed  to  repress  rebellion  in  Spain,  he  could  find  no 
leisure  for  interfering  in  the  affairs  of  Italy.  So  Francis 
prepared  to  make  the  most  of  his  advantage,  by  invading  the 
jDeninsula,  secure  of  success,  and  free  from  interruption. 

The  news  of  his  intention  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  on  the 
astonished  ears  of  the  English  court.  Nothing  could  be  more 
unwelcome  or  more  disastrous.  It  was  not  merely  the 
aggrandizement  of  French  territory  which  had  to  be  feared, 
should  the  French  arms  prove  successful.  The  mere  presence 
of  the  French  in  Italy  would  at  once  put  a  stop  to  all  those 
designs  which  English  and  Imperialists  had  been  prosecuting 
with  the  utmost  vigour,  secrecy,  and  despatch,  and  had  not 
yet  brought  to  a  successful  termination.  It  had  been  the 
object  of  Wolsey  to  unite  in  one  firm  alhance,  offensive  and 

*  SeeRuthal'slettertotheCardinal  snfiRcient  answer  to  the  insinnations 

while  on  his  journey  to  Walsingham,  that  the  King  was  wholly  influenced 

August    18,    III.    App.    No.    10.       As  in  all  his  measures  by  his  minister,  and 

Euthal  was    expressing    the    King's  scarcely  ever  looked  at  his  despatches, 
sentiments  before  he  had  received  any  *  III.  1013. 

communication  from  Wolsey,  it  is  a 


1520.]  FRANCIS   MASTER   OF   THE   SITUATION.  S63 

defensive,  the  Pope,  the  Emperor,  and  England.  But  if 
Francis  persisted  in  his  intention,  if  he  once  made  his  ap- 
pearance in  Italy,  all  hopes  of  such  a  combination  were  at  an 
end.  So  far  from  becoming  a  party  to  the  league,  the  Pope, 
timid  and  vacillating,  would  make  the  best  terms  that  he 
could  with  his  dreaded  and  abhorred  protector.  All  Italy 
would  follow  his  example ;  and  thus  the  very  instrument 
which  the  Cardinal  hoped  might  be  brought  to  bear  against 
France  would  be  turned  against  himself. 

To  oppose  the  design  with  threats  or  open  violence  would 
have  been  mconsistent  with  those  professions  of  friendship 
which  England  still  thought  fit  to  adopt  towards  the  French 
King.  Nothing  remained  but  to  try  the  effects  of  negociation. 
The  English  ambassador  was  instructed  to  represent  to  Francis 
the  deep  regret  with  which  his  master  had  heard  of  his  inten- 
tion to  cross  the  mountains.  Such  a  distance,  he  urged,  must 
separate  very  friends,  and  prove  a  barrier  to  that  free  and 
constant  intercourse  which  had  hitherto  existed  between  them. 
As  French  interests  were  so  well  established  in  Italy,  Henry 
trusted  that  there  would  be  no  urgent  cause  for  such  an 
expedition.  If,  however,  Francis  apprehended  the  Emperor's 
designs  in  that  quarter  (and  that  alone  could  justify  his 
enterprise  in  the  midst  of  profound  peace),  his  English  ally 
would  take  ample  care  to  send  effectual  aid,  and  join  with 
him  in  repelling  the  invader.-^ 

What  answer  was  made  by  Francis  to  these  amicable 
remonstrances  we  are  not  informed.  I  find  by  a  subsequent 
despatch  from  Sir  Nicholas  Carew  ^  that  the  English  ministers 
were  still  labouring  at  the  same  anvil,  with  little  apparent 
success.  To  discover  his  real  intentions,  Carew  told  the 
French  monarch  that  after  the  diet,  soon  to  be  held  at  Worms, 
the  Emperor  intended  to  return  into  Spain,  and  extinguish 
the  rebellion  in  person.  More  than  usually  cautious  and 
reticent,  Francis  replied  it  was  quite  needful  the  Emperor 
should  do  so.  He  was  in  no  mood  to  betray  his  intentions, 
as  he  was  apt  to  do  when  drawn  into  conversation.  When 
Carew  informed  him  that  his  master  had  persuaded  the  Pope, 
the  Emperor,  the  Swiss,  and  all  the  estates  of  Ital}^  to 
maintain  their  amity  with  France,  so  that  he  should  have 
no  occasion  to  cross  the  mountains,  except  for  his  amusement, 
Francis  coldly  answered  that  his  expedition  was  only  for  the 
satisfaction  of  his  subjects  and  the  reform  of  justice.     With 

III.  1092.  2   1 J 1 ,  1 1 26  ;  compare  also  1157. 


364  THE   KEIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

more  courtesy,  but  less  sincerity,  his  favourite  minister,  the 
Admiral,  professed  the  greatest  gratitude  for  Henry's  good 
offices.  He  thought  the  English  "  counsel  right  good  and 
honorable  to  the  King  his  master ;  "  and  if  matters  could  be 
concluded  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains  in  such  a  way 
as  not  to  compromise  his  master's  honour  and  profit,  why — 
he  himself  would  be  content  to  urge  the  King  to  follow  Henry's 
advice,  and  desist  from  so  expensive  an  expedition  ! 

Matters  were  beginning  to  wear  a  serious  aspect.  On  the 
part  of  the  Emperor  they  were  not  more  encouraging.  After 
his  coronation  at  Aix,  a  ceremony  imposed  upon  him  by  the 
constitution  of  the  empire,  Charles  had  to  decide  at  once  on 
his  future  movements.  The  condition  of  Spain  and  of  Italy 
was  equally  critical ;  both  equally  demanded  his  immediate 
presence.  The  rebellion  was  advancing  with  rapid  strides  in 
Spain  ;  Italy,  exposed  to  the  intrigues  of  the  French,  was  in 
danger  of  being  lost  irretrievably.  If  Charles  turned  his  steps 
towards  Italy,  Spain  would  be  surrendered  to  the  rebels,  and 
Navarre  revert  to  its  ancient  rulers.  The  d'Albrets,  re- 
established on  their  ancient  throne,  would  prove  an  effectual 
support  to  France,  and  cause  incessant  trouble  to  Spain.  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  turned  to  Spain,  the  Pope  and  all  the 
minor  potentates  of  Italy,  abandoned  to  themselves,  would  fall 
a  prey  to  the  intrigues  of  the  French. 

Besides,  he  had  already  bound  himself  at  his  coronation  to 
settle  the  troubles  of  Germany.  What  sort  of  task  that  was 
at  any  time,  and  still  more  in  1521,  the  reader  may  judge  by  a 
memorial  of  the  agenda  at  the  diet  at  Worms,  transmitted  to 
England  apparently  by  Spinelly,  at  the  instigation  of  Tunstal, 
and  arranged  under  fifteen  heads.^  In  addition  to  the  religious 
controversies  and  the  refutation  of  Luther's  heresies,  almost 
all  the  disputes  by  which  Germany  had  been  distracted  for 
the  last  fifty  years  were  to  be  carefully  examined,  and,  if 
possible,  adjusted.  More  than  thirty  bishops  were  at  variance 
with  the  temporal  lords  for  their  several  jurisdictions.  Nurem- 
berg, Wurzburg,  Bamberg,  Constance,  were  each  engaged  in 
obstinate  feuds ;  here  temporal,  there  ecclesiastical  disputes, 

>  See  III.    1185.     The  diet,   says  had  been  of  little  efficacy.    The  Pope's 

the  memorial,  will  take  notice  of  the  curse  was  disregarded,  and  Luther's 

books  and  descriptions  {i.e.  writings)  works    were    devoured    with    greater 

made  by  friar  Martin  Lutero,  a  schis-  avidity  than  before  :  "  the  which  friar 

matic,    against    the    court    of    Rome.  Martin  of  the  elector  of   Saxon  and 

According  to  the    same   witness    the  other    princes    of     this     country    is 

proceedings  already  taken  against  him  favored." 


1521.]  THE   EMPEROR'S   TERPLEXITIES.  305 

put  forth  their  vigorous  and  interminable  filaments.  One 
projjosal,  especially  worth  notice,  was  to  be  carried  if  possible, 
and  seemed  likel}'  to  raise  a  storm  of  opposition ;  sc.  "  that 
no  man,  without  the  consent  of  the  Emperor  and  Electors, 
should,  for  any  personal  quarrel  or  other  cause,  presume  to 
declare  war,  as  had  been  done  in  times  past :  "  and  to  this, 
says  the  memorial,  the  cities  and  towns  were  determined  to 
stick  fast. 

Could  anything  show  more  clearly  the  confusion  and  dis- 
order into  which  Germany  was  plunged,  or  the  magnitude  of 
the  task  undertaken  by  the  Emperor,  at  the  time  when  every 
quarter  of  his  dominions  was  threatened  by  a  domestic  or  a 
foreign  enemy,  and  the  very  units  of  which  society  was  com- 
posed were  ready  to  start  back  into  their  primeval  chaos  ? 

Charles  was  perplexed,  and  hesitated.  His  council  was 
divided.  One  party,  of  whom  Chievres  was  the  chief,  was 
loud  and  earnest  in  its  asseverations  that  the  ill  news  from 
Spain  was  exaggerated.  If,  said  they,  Italy  be  abandoned, 
Milan  must  be  lost ;  French  influence  will  become  predominant 
in  the  peninsula ;  the  Pope,  inclined  to  befriend  the  Emperor, 
will  make  terms  with  his  enemy.  These  arguments  were 
enforced  by  numerous  Italian  exiles  driven  from  their  homes 
through  hatred  or  oppression  of  French  rule  ;  still  more,  by 
the  repeated  remonstrances  of  Don  Manuel,  the  Spanish 
ambassador  at  the  Papal  court.  But  they  were  not  urged 
solely  out  of  consideration  to  the  Emperor's  interests.  Chievres 
and  his  Flemish  favourites  had  become  odious  to  Spain  by 
their  rapacity.  To  return,  and  brave  the  irritation  of  the 
Spaniards,  was  impossible.  So  in  the  determination  of  this 
political  dispute  was  involved  the  fall  of  one  party,  and  the 
supremacy  of  its  rivals.  And  not  that  only.  If  Charles 
resolved  on  returning  to  Spain,  the  influence  of  Chievres 
would  be  at  an  end,  and  with  it  all  hopes  of  French  supremacy 
in  the  councils  of  the  Emperor.  This  is  the  key  to  the  policy 
of  Henry  and  his  minister.  This  was  the  reason  of  their 
urging  the  Emperor  to  return  to  Spain.  Their  repeated 
rcjprescntntions  of  the  necessity  of  such  a  step, — their  solici- 
tude for  this  quarter  of  the  imperial  dominions,  so  dispropor- 
tionate to  that  charity  which  nations  in  general  entertain  for 
the  troubles  of  their  neighbours, — had  this  end  in  view,  this, 
and  no  other.  And  to  this,  and  no  other  cause,  must  we 
refer  the  explosion  of  wrath  with  which  the  Spanish  envoy 
some  months  before  received  Wolsey's  considerate  suggestion, 


366 


THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY    YIII. 


[A.D. 


that  Madame  (Margaret)  should  cliange  places  with  Chievres, 
whose  grey  hairs  required  repose,  and  whose  presence  would 
be  less  beneficial  in  Spain. -^ 

As  sickness  prevailed  at  Worms,  the  diet  was  dissolved  in 
the  end  of  May,  1521,  after  a  very  short  conference.  It  was 
not  reserved  for  Emperor  or  Electors  to  settle  in  the  space  of 
two  months  the  disputes  by  which  Germany  was  distracted, 
still  less  to  put  back  again  into  the  original  nutshell  from 
which  it  had  emanated  the  nascent  spirit  of  reform.  The 
sun-dial  of  public  opinion  would  not  return  one  degree  back- 
ward for  Pope,  Emperor,  men,  or  devils.  So  Luther,  fortis- 
simus  peccator,  retired  from  the  diet  to  disseminate  winged 
briefs  and  letters  from  his  island  of  Patmos,  and  fight  the 
devil  over  again  in  his  solitude  of  the  Wartberg,  as  he  had 
fought  with  him  among  the  beasts  at  Worms.     Bishops  were 


*  The     singular    conversation     to 
which  I  refer  is  slia^htly  abridged  from 
a  letter   addressed  by   De   la  Saach, 
the  Spanish  envoy,  to  Chievres  himself, 
April  7,  1520.     After  telling  Chievres 
hov?  Wolsey  had  said  his  master  was 
desirous  of   having    Madame    present 
at  the  interview  (at  Calais),  that  all 
might  urge  her  to  go  to  Spain,  as  the 
only  means  of  reducing  that  kingdom 
to  quiet,  he  continues  :   "  On  the  other 
side,  the   Cardinal  urged  that,  when 
our    master   went   into    Germany,    it 
might   be  that  you  (Chievres)  would 
be  desirous  of  rest,  and  so  would  like 
to  have   some   person  in  your  room  ; 
but  that  you    would  not  wish  to  be 
deprived  of  all  authority  ;  reasonably 
enough."     But,  he  added,  they  could 
not   see    how    this    could   be    easily 
brought  about   unless    Madame  were 
sent  into  Spain.     Wolsey  continued  to 
insist  on  the  advisability  of  this  course, 
and  the  numerous  inconveniences  which 
would  follow  on  rejecting  it.     "  Upon 
this,"  continues  De  la  Sauch,  "  I  ex- 
cused  you,    and    I    told    him    that    I 
thought  I  knew  your  intentions  well 
enough  to  assure  him  that  whenever 
you  made    up   your   mind    to   retire, 
which  I  imagined  you  would  do  after 
the    King's    coronation   at    Aix,    yon 
w^ould  not  wish  to  hold  any  office,  for 
this  would  not  be  retirement  {repos). 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  desire  to 
continue  your  services  you  would  not 
feel  inclined  to  desert  the  Emperor; 
and  as  to  any  office  or  government,  you 
would  never  become  a  party  to  such 
an  exchange  as  he  proposed,  and  so 


incur  the  displeasure  of  Madame.     I 
told  him  she  was  the  Emperor's  aunt, 
and  there  was  no  reason  for  supposing 
that    he    would    deprive    her    of    the 
government    of   the   Netherlands   for 
any  one.     Wolsey  insisted,   in  reply, 
that  the  change  was  necessary  for  the 
Emperor's  affairs.     '  We  will  persuade 
him  to  this  (he  said),  and  that  during 
her  absence    M.   Chievres    shall  have 
her  place  in  Flanders.'     '  Certes,  Mon- 
sieur,'   I    replied,    '  I    think    that    if 
Madame  wished  to  go  into  Spain  she 
would  be  very  welcome,  and  the  King 
would  be  glad  of  it ;  but  he  would  not 
press   her  to   accept    it   against   her 
will.     And  as  for  M.   de   Chievres,  I 
am  sure  that  whenever  he  retires  from 
the  charge  he  has  about  the  King  he 
will  never  undertake  any  other  office.' 
'  Ah  !  Master  Secretary,' he  replied  to 
me  in  Latin,   '  if  you  believe  that,   I 
perceive  well  enough  that  you  have 
no  perfect  knowledge  of  the  disposition 
of  men  in  authority.'     To  this  remark 
I  made  no  reply,  but  I  thought  that 
he  fancied  all  mankind  was  like  him- 
self, and  that  he  would  be  very  sorry 
if  he  were  deprived  of  his  authority. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  could  not  help 
wondering  at  his  extravagant   (folle) 
absirrdity    in    supposing   that    if   the 
Kinrr  oar  master  wished  Madame  to 
go  into  Spain,  she  would  rather  do  so 
at    their    persuasion    than    at     his." 
Chievres  was  an  old  man,  whose  in- 
fluence had  once  been  paramount  with 
his  master.     He  must  have  been  more 
than   mortal,  if  ever  he  forgave   the 
Cardinal  this  insult. 


1521.]  CHARLES'S   IMATEIMOXIAL   PROJECTS.  367 

still  doomed  to  go  on  quarrelling  with  temporal  lords  and 
temporal  lords  with  bishops.  The  denunciation  of  private 
wars  did  not  hinder  Hutten  and  Sickingen  from  avenfi^inof 
then*  own  quarrels,  or  those  of  others,  as  passion  or  interest 
dictated.  The  daj's  when  diets  could  smooth  down  into  unity 
the  ruffled  passions,  principles,  convictions  of  men,  were  as 
equally  numbered  with  the  past,  as  those  of  Convocation  and 
General  Councils. 

But   the  political  complications  in  which  Cbarles  found 
himself  involved  were  augmented  by  his  matrimonial  projects. 
To  carr}^  on  three  such  negociations  as  these  simultaneously 
with  secresy  and  success  demanded  great  tact.     His  choice 
varied  between  England  and  Portugal,  for  the  rupture  with 
France  had  already  proceeded  so  far  as  to  cause  him  little 
uneasiness.      A   matrimonial   alliance   with   Portugal    suited 
best  his  inclination,  while  one  with  England  best  served  his 
political  interests.     But  then  the  dowry  offered  by  Henry  was 
less  in  amount  than  that  offered  by  Portugal ;   besides,  the 
English  monarch  insisted  on  deducting  from  it  the  sums  he 
had  already  advanced  to  the  Emperor.     One  hope  remained. 
If  he  consented   to   the  projected  marriage  with  Mary,  the 
fulfilment   of  which   could   be    indefinitely   postponed   on    a 
variety  of  pretexts,  Henry  might  be  induced  to  declare  war 
against  France,   and  so  irretrievably  commit   himself  to    a 
course   from  which  he   could  not  retire  with  honour.     This 
was  all  that  the  Emperor  wanted ;  that  done,  he  would  be 
free  to  choose  his  bride  from  France,  England,  or  Portugal, 
as  best  suited  his  inclinations  or  his  interests.     So  the  policy 
of  the  Emperor  was  mainly  concentrated  on   two   objects ; 
first,  to  exact  from  the  King  of  Portugal  as  large  a  dowry  as 
possible ;  secondly,  to  induce  England  by  all  means  in  his 
power,  short  of  an  irrevocable  engagement  to  Mary,  to  declare 
war  against  France.     Of  the  real  nature  of  his  negociations 
with  Portugal,  the  English  court  was  to  be  kept  in  ignorance, 
except  so  far  as  a  knowledge  of  the  offers  of  Portugal  might 
serve  to  advance  his  interests  in  England  ;   whilst  the  King  of 
Portugal,  informed  from  time  to  time  of  the  advantageous 
conditions  offered  by  England,  would  be  induced  to  bid  higher 
for  an  imperial  son-in-law. 

With  the  course  of  these  negociations  at  the  court  of 
Portugal  I  am  not  concerned.  Although  the  secret  was  very 
strictly  kept,  it  did  not  wholly  escape  the  penetration  of 
Wolsey.     Into  the  trap  tlms  cunningly  prepared  for  him  he 


368  TPIE   REIGN   OF   HEXRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

obstinately  refused  to  enter,  much  to  the  dissatisfaction  of  the 
imperial  agents,  who  vented  their  anger  in  abusive  epithets, 
and  consoled  themselves  for  their  disappointment  by  insinua- 
tions against  the  Cardinal's  honesty.  It  cannot  be  said  that 
be  remained  unmoved ;  for  he  was  not  of  a  temper  to  bear 
indignity  with  patience.  But,  conscious  of  his  strength,  he 
treated  then'  anger  and  imj)atience  with  indifference,  and  not 
unfrequently  with  lofty  contempt.  He  had  determined  on  his 
course  ;  he  had  fixed  the  terms  on  which  the  alliance  of  Eng- 
land was  to  be  had  : — these,  and  no  others  ; — they  might  take 
them,  or  go.  He  would  not  bate  an  inch,  or  depart  a  hair's 
breadth  from  them,  let  Emperors  and  imperialists  storm  as 
they  would. 

And  storm  they  did,  for  they  were  not  accustomed  to  con- 
tradiction. The  least  pliant,  the  least  courteous,  in  general 
the  least  successful  negociator  in  the  world,  the  Spaniard  was 
detested  in  every  court  in  Europe.  In  dealing  with  the  Pope, 
the  Venetians,  or  inferior  powers,  he  dispensed  with  the  arts 
of  dij)lomacy,  not  because  he  despised  them,  but  because  he 
was  too  proud  to  condescend,  too  overbearing  to  conciliate, 
where  force  could  be  employed  with  impunity.  With  England 
that  was  impossible.  In  Wolsey  he  met  with  a  scorn  loftier 
than  his  own,  and  his  anger  was  consequently  unbounded. 
Formal,  tedious,  corrupt,  are  the  expletives  by  which  Don 
Manuel  and  others,  in  their  correspondence  with  Charles  V., 
found  a  safety-valve  for  their  vexation,  a  compensation  for 
their  wounded  vanity.  But  to  accept,  as  some  have  done, 
such  expressions  as  grave  historical  evidence,  to  regard  them 
as  anything  more  than  the  spleen  of  the  moment,  to  convert 
them  into  a  solemn  and  ponderous  charge  against  Wolsey' s 
integrity,  is  altogether  absm'd. 

The  Emperor's  council  was  no  less  perplexed  and  dis- 
tracted than  the  Emperor.  A  million  dollars  with  the  hand 
of  the  Princess  of  Portugal  was  a  tempting  offer ;  but  then  its 
acceptance  involved  the  loss  of  the  English  alliance,  and  the 
union  of  England  with  France.  That  alHance  could  be  had 
only  upon  the  terms  dictated  by  Wolsey,  and  these  were  hard 
and  strict :  a  dower  of  50,000?.,  the  privilege  for  Henry  to 
declare  hostilities  against  France  at  his  own  option,  and 
indemnity  for  the  losses  he  must  incur  in  so  doing.  Would  it 
not  be  possible  to  cajole  or  bribe  the  Cardinal,  and  so  extract 
from  him  more  favourable  terms,  a  greater  deference  to  the 
wishes  and  interests  of  the  Emperor?     Might  he  not,  being 


lo21.]  WOLSEY   NOT   TO   BE   TRIFLED  WITH.  369 

only  an  Englishman,  incapable  of  conceiving  grand  theories  of 
universal  dominion,  and  a  stranger  to  that  wisdom  which  a 
continental  education  engendered,  become  a  puppet  in  the 
diplomatic  hands  of  Cobos,  Gattinara,  or  even  Don  Manuel  ? 
So  weak  men  judge  of  the  strong  ;  so  small  men  imagine  the 
great. 

At  this  time  Tunstal  was  the  English  ambassador  at  the 
imperial  court.  He  had  complained  already  of  the  wayward- 
ness, delay,  and  indecision  of  the  Emperor's  council.  In  no 
mood  to  be  trifled  with,  the  Cardinal  wrote  in  the  King's 
name  to  the  ambassador,  then  at  Worms.  After  thanking 
him  for  his  discreet  behaviour  and  good  service,  he  thus 
proceeds  :  ^  "  We  marvel  at  the  sudden  change  in  the  Emperor's 
council,  in  resolving  not  to  enter  further  into  this  alliance  of 
marriage  till  he  have  leave  from  the  Pope,  unless  we  consent 
to  treat  all  matters  simultaneously;  sc.  make  a  defensive 
league  with  the  Pope,  take  the  Swiss  into  pay,  grant  him  aid 
against  his  Spanish  rebels,  and  agree  to  a  new  interview. 
This  is  far  discrepant  from  the  overtures  made  us  at  Calais 
and  by  his  ambassadors  in  England.  For,  although,  as  you 
state,  the  Pope's  dispensation  is  necessary  for  this  marriage, 
as  we  have  foreseen,  the  parties  being  in  the  second  degree  of 
consanguinity,  the  difficulty  may  be  cleared  by  a  bull  of  dis- 
pensation. But  we  will  not  consent  to  any  treaties  or 
arrangements  until  this  article  of  the  marriage  he  first  fidly 
concluded,  nor  join  in  any  league  with  the  Pope  and  the 
Emperor  until  such  dispensation  be  first  granted  siih  j^lumbo, 
which  shall  be  obtained  in  the  most  secret  manner.^ 

"  We  wonder  they  refuse  these  things,  which  are  so  much 
to  their  advantage.  For  considering  the  amity  between  us 
and  France,  that  our  daughter  is  already  honorably  bestowed 
there,  and  that  we  are  at  peace  with  all  Christian  princes,  what 
need  have  loe  of  any  further  alliance  with  Pope  or  Emperor 
than  such  as  we  have  already  ?  Why  should  ivc  meddle  with 
the  Swiss,  or  make  war  upon  France  ?  What  object  have  ive 
to  gain  in  aiding  the  Emperor  against  his  rebels,  except  it  be 
from  the  love  we  bear  him  ?     Do  we  stand  in  need  of  aid  from 


*  See  III.  1150.  I  have  abrirlgefl  had  first  made  sure  of  the  friendship 
the  document,  as  it  consists  of  40  of  Euj^laud.  The  favour  of  Henry,  as 
pages.  the   ambassador    repeatedly   told   his 

*  In  spite  of  all  the  intrigues  and  imperial  master,  was  indispensable  to 
threats  of  Don  .Juan  Manuel,  Leo  X.  the  success  of  hia  ailairs.  See 
could  not  bo  persuaded  to  make  any  especially  his  despatch,  Doc.  3,  1520, 
alliance    with   the   Emperor   until  ho  in  Bergenroth's  Calendar. 

VOL.  I.  2  B 


:J70  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY    VIII.  [A.D. 

the  Emperor,  or  from  any  other  ?  If  they  make  difficulties, 
we  are  not  minded  to  bestow  our  favors  upon  those  who  are 
unwilKng  to  accept  them.  We  only  require  this  assurance  on 
their  part  that  we  may  be  the  more  heartily  inclined  to  the 
Emperor's  interest ;  for  without  it  we  have  no  special  induce- 
ment to  tender  his  welfare.  It  will  not  prevent  the  Emperor 
from  marrying  any  person  of  lawful  age  before  our  daughter 
comes  to  mature  years,  as  he  will  only  be  bound  to  take  her  if 
he  be  then  at  liberty." 

Then  addressing  himself  specially  to  the  ear  of  the  ambas- 
sador, he  adds :  "  This  alliance  must  be  concluded  before  any 
other  convention ;  for,  if  it  were  delayed  until  after  the  league 
with  the  Pope,  the  Emperor  and  his  ministers  might  insist 
upon  very  unreasonable  demands,  lead  us  into  war  and 
intolerable  expenses,  bring  us  into  suspicion  with  our  other 
confederates,  and,  after  we  had  helped  them  to  play  their 
game,  leave  us  in  the  lurch." 

After  some  remarks  on  the  dowry  to  be  given  with  the 
Princess,  which  was  not  to  exceed  50,000L  sterling,  Tunstal  is 
informed  that  no  particulars  will  be  sent  him  at  present  as  to 
the  league  with  the  Pope,  the  entertainment  of  the  Swiss,  the 
aid  to  be  given  against  the  Spanish  rebels, — all  points  of  the 
utmost  solicitude  to  Charles  and  his  ministers,  and  their  main 
inducement  for  entering  on  these  negociations  for  Mary's 
hand.  For,  "to  be  plain  with  you,"  he  subjoins,  "it  would 
be  great  folly  in  this  young  prince,  not  being  more  surely 
settled  in  his  dominions,  and  so  ill  provided  with  treasure  and 
fjood  councillors,  the  Pope  also  being  so  brittle  and  variable,  to 
be  led  into  war  for  the  pleasure  of  his  ministers.  It  is  there- 
fore not  advisable  to  enter  into  stricter  bonds  with  the  Pope 
than  at  present,  or  be  at  charges  for  the  Swiss,  or  to  send  any 
embassy  to  alienate  them  from  France,  or  give  assistance 
against  the  rebels  in  Spain,  as  the  Emperor  may  reimburse 
himself  by  confiscating  their  lands  and  goods.  As  for  the 
interview  which  they  ask  for,  though  it  will  be  expensive  to  us 
and  our  nobles,  we  shall  not  object  to  it,  if  all  else  be  con- 
cluded." 

Then,  as  if  to  remind  the  Emperor  that  these  new  objec- 
tions had  no  place  in  his  thoughts  when  he  first  viewed  with 
the  utmost  jealousy  and  alarm  the  personal  interview  of  the 
French  and  English  monarchs  only  a  few  months  before,  he 
adds  :  "  At  Canterbury,  and  again  at  Calais,  when  this  matter 
was  broached,  the  Emperor  was  willing  to  have  concluded 


1521.]         CHARLES   MUST   GIVE   A   DEFINITE  ANSWER.  371 

this  alliance  without  any  dispensation  from  the  Pope ;  and  we 
are  led  to  suspect  that  they  now  only  are  seeking  to  delay  it 
until  they  have  learned  from  the  French  ambassador  now 
sent  to  them  what  offer  will  be  made  [them]  by  the  French 
king.  As  we  understand  that  the  Emj^eror  lately  reproved 
Chievres  and  the  Chancellor  (Gattinara)  for  neglecting  Eng- 
land, and  charged  them  that  they  should  write  nothing  to  us 
without  his  express  knowledge,  if  you  see  no  better  towardli- 
ness  in  them  than  heretofore,  repair  to  the  Emperor  himself, 
show  him  our  mind,  note  his  answers,  and  how  he  seems  dis- 
posed ;  for  we  doubt  not,  when  he  has  well  weighed  the  nature 
of  this  bond  and  the  advantage  of  the  match,  he  will  make  no 
further  difficulty.  Then,  if  the  Emperor's  council  continue 
intractable,  you  shall  tell  the  Emperor  secretly,  as  of  yourself, 
that,  in  consideration  of  the  old-standing  amity  between  the 
two  sovereigns,  there  is  no  prince,  your  own  king  excepted, 
for  whom  you  entertain  a  stronger  regard  ;  and  therefore  you 
are  induced  for  his  own  sake  to  tell  him  what  consequences 
are  certain  to  ensue  if  he  reject  this  alliance.  For  if  the 
match  between  the  princess  Mary  and  the  Dauphin  be  suffered 
to  proceed,  and  the  Dauphin  become  king  of  France,  and  in 
her  right  king  of  England,  the  navies  of  France  and  England 
will  shut  the  Emperor  from  the  seas.  If  he  makes  his  abode 
in  Spain,  the  Low  Countries  will  be  in  danger;  and  the 
French  King,  monarch  of  two  kingdoms  and  of  the  Duchy  of 
Milan,  will  imperil  Naples,  and  attain  the  monarchy  of  Chris- 
tendom. Whereas  all  these  advantages  would  fall  to  the 
Emperor,  if  he  accepted  this  alliance ;  so  that  he  should 
rather  labor  himself  to  break  this  match  with  France  than  stay 
for  England  to  make  any  overtures  for  the  same." 

Thus  fortified,  Tunstal  returned  once  more  to  the  great 
object  of  his  negociation.  The  chief  impediment  to  its  success 
was  the  Flemish  minister  Chievres,  as  might  have  been 
expected.  He  was  far  advanced  in  years,  and  resented  the 
suggestion  of  Wolsey,  already  mentioned,  that  he  should  give 
himself  a  little  repose,  and  enjoy  the  shade  of  his  own  laurels, 
without  venturing  again  into  Spain.  The  advice  was  not  the 
more  palatable  because  it  was  wholesome.  The  rapacity  of 
Chievres  and  his  nephew,  the  young  Cardinal  De  Croy — 
Cardinal  and  Archbishop  of  Toledo  at  the  age  of  twenty,  self- 
sufficient  and  incompetent,  had  filled  the  breasts  of  the 
Spanish  nobles  and  ecclesiastics  with  bitter  indignation.  The 
old  goat,  as  they  complained,  in  gibing  allusion  to  his  name, 


372  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

did  nothing  but  fill  empty  Flemish  wells,  and,  gnawing  to  the 
bone  his  imperial  ward,  foster  poverty  and  contention  in  his 
household.^  But  though  his  influence  was  on  the  wane,  he 
was  still  omnipotent  with  the  Emperor.  In  his  present 
temper,  it  was  hopeless  to  expect  that  Chievres  would  counte- 
nance a  match  with  England,  and  thus  augment  the  influence 
of  that  party  to  which  he  was  personally  and  politically 
opposed.  In  vain  Tunstal  argued  first  with  one  and  then 
with  another :  points  determined  at  one  meeting  were  un- 
settled at  the  next.  Pretexts  were  not  wanting  to  avoid  a 
definitive  answer,  or  put  ofi'  the  ambassador's  audience,  when 
it  was  not  likely  to  prove  agreeable. 

First,  the  terms  of  the  alliance  were  open  to  controversy  : 
— the  Emperor  did  not  understand  Latin,  and  the  papers 
must  be  translated  into  French.  Then  again  his  attention 
was  engrossed  by  the  diet  at  Worms.  He  had  much  business 
with  the  Electors  on  the  affairs  of  the  empire.  At  Shrovetide, 
there  was  to  be  "  a  solemn  joust  of  nobles  and  gentlemen." 
His  sister's  marriage,  visits  of  ceremony  from  and  to  the 
Electors,  filled  up  the  interval.  It  was  clear  the  ambassador 
would  get  no  answer.  "  I  think,"  says  Tunstal,  *'  they  will 
delay  till  they  see  how  the  electors  are  inclined."  ^  This  was 
the  real  secret.  If  the  Emperor  could  bring  them  into  good 
humour  and  some  degree  of  unanimity,  he  might  expect  to 
reap  the  fruits  of  his  ingenuity  and  their  benevolence,  and  so 
stnnd  upon  his  own  terms.  For  Charles  was  deeply  involved. 
"  The  household  and  all  the  gentlemen  been  behind  of  their 
wages  almost  trei  quarters,"  says  Spinelly ;  "  whereupon  hath 
grown  a  great  murmur  against  the  lord  Chievres."  But 
Charles  was  not  disheartened.  On  the  strength  of  his  new 
expectations  he  had  borrowed  of  the  Belzers  of  Augsburg 
130,000  florins.  He  was  a  young  man  then,  and  the  child 
of  fortune.  The  reconciliation  of  the  rival  claims  of  the 
spiritual  and  temporal  powers,  the  pacification  and  unity  of 
a,ll  Germany,  the  harmonious  cradling  of  the  lion  with  the 
kid,  of  Luther  with  the  Lady  of  Babylon, — all  these  were 
golden  visions,  easy  to  be  realized  by  the  supreme  monarch 
of  Christendom — an  Emperor  of  twenty-one. 

In  this  juncture  Wolsey  addressed  himself  to  Henry  VIII. 

'  See  Pet.  Martyr.  Epist.  646,  et  whose  aggrandizement  he  had  exposed 

fassim.     Within  the  last  four  weeks  himself  to  so  much  obloquy.  Spinelly's 

he  had  sustained  a  great  loss  in  the  letter,  III.  App.  22. 
dtath   of   his   favourite   nephew,    for  *  III.  1162. 


1521.]  THE  AMBASSADOR  MUST  RETUEN.  373 

After  stating  that  he  bad  received  letters  in  cipher  from  Henry's 
ambassador  with  the  Emperor,  the  contents  of  which  be  had 
deciphered,  and  sent,  he  proceeds :  "  This  is  far  discrepant 
from  good  and  congruence,  founded  and  contrived  only  for 
delays,  whereby  they  be  like  more  to  lose  than  your  Grace 
shall ;  and  great  simpleness  and  lack  of  good  remembrance 
may  be  arrected  to  them,  thus  to  use  so  wise  and  expert  a 
prince  in  his  affairs  as  ye  be ;  alleging  that  they  cannot  treat 
of  the  alliance  proposed  by  yom*  Grace,  the  honor  of  their 
master  saved,  except  the  Pope  do  dispense  with  their  oath 
made  to  France  ;  whereas,  both  at  Calais  and  also  at  Canter- 
bury they  would  actually  have  concluded  marriage,  if  your 
Highness  would  have  been  thereto  agreeable,  without  making 
any  mention  of  any  such  dispensation.  And  whereas  your 
Grace,  in  the  Emperor's  privy  chamber  at  Calais  objected 
that  the  Emperor  was  bounden  by  the  contract  made  with  the 
daughter  of  France  by  cause  he  was  of  full  age,  notwithstand- 
ing she  was  not  at  like  age  ;  yet  the  Chancellor  expressly 
denied  the  same.  And  though  your  Grace  said  according  to 
truth  and  the  law,  yet  by  then-  denial  it  manifestly  appeared 
that  they  reckoned  their  master  solute,  not  needing  any  such 
dispensation  as  that  they  now  allege  ;  and  much  the  less  that 
this  promise  by  your  Grace  demanded  import  not  so  much  as 
an  actual  and  real  contract,  whereunto  at  all  times  they  have 
showed  themselves  to  be  agreeable,  to  the  intent  thereby  your 
Grace  should  break  with  France.  .  .  . 

"  And  whereas  the  lord  Chievres  hath  found  a  new  inven- 
tion, wherein  he  thinketh  that  your  Grace  should  be  pleased  ; 
that  is  to  say,  that  a  diet  within  your  realm  should  be  holden 
at  Calais  betwixt  commissioners  to  be  sent  thither  on  both 
parts,  and  that  they  should  treat  as  w^ell  of  the  said  alliance 
as  of  all  other  matters  ;  .  .  .  I  cannot  see  to  what  pm'pose 
that  diet  should  serve,  or  what  good  effect  should  come  thereof, 
but  only  thereby  ye  should  be  brought  in  suspicion  with 
France  :  and  by  the  color  of  the  same,  the  Emperor  the  sooner 
and  rather  should  make  his  hand  with  the  same.  Wherefore, 
seeing  this  their  untowardness,  and  that  this  answer  is  their 
final  resolution,  it  shall  be  in  mine  poor  opinion  well  done, 
that  the  Master  of  the  Eolls  (Tunstal)  do  no  further  press 
them  in  this  behalf;  but  after  a  little  tarrying  there  to  Imow 
what  conclusion  shall  be  taken  in  this  great  assembly  of  the 
estates  of  Almain,  and  using  to  the  Emperor's  own  person 
such  words  as  be  contained  in  his  last  instructions,  ho  shall 


374  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D.  1521. 

take  his  leave  and  depart.  And  I  assure  your  Grace,  may  be 
or  long  too  they  shall  on  then'  hands  and  feet  seek  unto  your 
Highness ;  for  if  the  French  king  and  they  be  at  pique,  as 
your  Grace  shall  perceive  they  be  right  like  to  be,  by  the 
copy  of  such  letters  as  the  French  king  now  writeth  to  his 
ambassador,  which  I  send  unto  the  same  herewith,  Spain  also 
continuing  in  rebellion,  they  shall  not  only  have  need  of  your 
favor,  succor,  and  assistance,  but  also,  if  they  attempt  any- 
thing by  hostility,  your  Grace  not  consenting  thereto,  they 
shall  be  utterly  undone.  Howbeit,  in  this  controversy  betwixt 
these  two  princes,  it  shall  be  a  marvellous  great  praise  and 
honor  to  your  Grace  so  by  your  high  wisdom  and  authority  to 
pass  between  and  stay  them  both  that  ye  be  not  by  their  con- 
tention and  variance  brought  into  the  war  ;  which,  as  I  perceive 
by  the  latter  clause  of  the  French  king's  letters,  he  trusteth 
ye  will  be  in  case  the  Emperor  should  enter  into  Italy,  and 
so  pluck  the  crown  imperial  at  Eome  with  a  great  army ; 
whereupon  I  doubt  not  but  your  Grace  will  take  good  delibera- 
tion and  be  well  advised,  considering  what  ye  be  bounden  to 
do  by  virtue  of  such  treaties  as  be  passed  betwixt  you,  or  ye 
shall  make  any  promise  to  the  said  French  king  in  that 
behalf."! 

The  result  will  have  been  anticipated  by  my  readers. 
When  reason  fails  to  open  men's  eyes  to  their  true  interests, 
what  remains  ?  Moriemini  in  peccatis  vcstris.  Con^dering 
that  the  Emperor's  ministers  wilfully  rejected  a  proposal  more 
to  the  Emperor's  profit  than  to  the  King's,  as  Wolsey  wrote 
shortly  after  to  Tunstal,  it  was  the  King's  pleasure  they 
should  be  pressed  no  further.  So  leaving  Sir  Thomas  Spinelly 
in  his  place,  he  was  ordered  to  return  immediately.^ 

'  III.  1213.  2  III.  1214. 


(    375    ) 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    DUKE    OF    BUCKINGHAM. 

Thus  matters  stood :  Charles  remained  still  at  Worms,  feasting 
Electors  and  denouncing  Luther ;  Francis  I.  was  in  the  full 
bustle  of  war,  levying  lance-knights  and  preparing  ordnance  ; 
Henry  VIII.,  digesting,  as  best  he  might,  the  Emperor's 
strange  behaviour,  and  more  strange  refusal  of  his  daughter's 
hand  ;  Leo  X.  was  oscillating  between  the  French  and  Imperial 
alliance — now  deluding  Don  Manuel,  and  now  the  French 
ambassador,  by  taking  them  alternately  into  his  confidence, 
and  playing  the  one  off  against  the  other — when  an  event 
took  place,  which  struck  not  only  England,  but  all  Europe, 
with  amazement.  This  was  the  apprehension  of  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham. 

In  Shakesj)eare's  play  of  Henry  VIII.,  the  Duke  is  intro- 
duced as  holding  conversation  with  the  Duke  of  Norfolk.  He 
demands  news  of  the  latter  touching  the  interview  "  'twixt 
Guisnes  and  Arde,"  on  the  plea  that  "all  the  whole  time  he 
was  his  chamber's  prisoner."  Now,  even  if  by  Norfolk  we 
are  to  understand  Surrey,  who  became  Duke  of  Norfolk  on 
his  father's  death  in  1524,  and  no  other  supposition  will  suit 
the  chronology  of  the  play — Shakespeare  has  fallen  into  a 
grave  historical  error.  It  was  not  Buckingham,  but  Norfolk, 
who  should  have  required  an  account  of  the  meeting  of  "  those 
sons  of  glory,  those  two  lights  of  men  ;  "  for  both  Buckingham 
and  his  son-in-law  Lord  Abergavenny  were  present  at  the 
interview.  Whereas  Norfolk,  with  Fox,  Bishop  of  Winchester, 
and  other  members  of  the  Council,  remained  in  England,^  and 
Surrey  was  absent  as  lieutenant  in  Ireland.  On  what  authority 
Shakespeare,  who  in  general  adheres  closely  to  Hall  in  Jiis 
English  historical  plays,  assumed  that  Buckingham  was  con- 
fined to  his  chamber  "  by  an  untimely  ague,"  1  have  not  been 
able  to  discover.     Not  a  word  of  his  illness  is  found  in  Hall. 

■  See  their  letters,  111.  873,  8'J5. 


376  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D.  ! 

i 
On  the  contrary,  Hall  states,  correctly  enough,  that  the  Duke 
was  appointed,  in  conjunction  with  Wolsey,  to  conduct  the 
French  King  to  his  lodgings  at  Arde,  on  the  last  day  of  those 
famous  festivities.^  Perhaps  Shakespeare  may  have  been 
struck  by  the  fact — not  a  little  remarkable — that  to  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  next  in  rank  to  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  popular, 
wealthy,  and  greedy  of  distinction,  no  conspicuous  part  in  the 
tournament  was  assigned.  His  name  does  not  appear  among 
the  combatants.  He  abstained  from  the  various  feats  of  arms, 
in  which  not  Suffolk  only,  but  other  noblemen  far  inferior  in 
rank  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  found  numerous  oppor- 
tunities for  display.  This  is  the  more  remarkable,  because 
he  appears  to  have  entered  with  zest  and  eagerness  into 
such  courtly  amusements  only  a  few  mouths  before.  As 
the  arrangements  were  *'  ordered  by  the  good  discretion  of 
the  right  reverend  cardinal  of  York,"  it  might  be  thought  that 
the  omission  of  Buckingham's  name  was  a  studied  insult ; 
and  hence  his  indignation  at  Wolsey  for  usurping  the  authority 
of  his  master. 

But  neither  Wolsey's  pride  nor  "  an  untimely  ague  "  was 
the  true  cause  of  the  Duke's  exclusion.  Once  before,  when  he 
had  been  appointed  one  of  the  answerers  in  a  tilting  at  court, 
he  had  requested  Wolsey  to  be  allowed  to  run  on  the  King's  ' 
side.  If  this  could  not  be  granted,  he  begged  to  be  excused 
from  taking  any  part  in  the  jousts ;  ^  and  I  presume  that  his 
excuse  was  accepted.  Unless,  then,  the  King  was  willing  to 
nomina,te  the  Duke  as  one  of  his  own  band,  at  the  interview — 
a  favour  he  could  hardly  expect — it  was  not  likely  that  he 
would  consent  to  run  on  the  opposite  side,  in  contradiction  to 
his  own  expressed  wishes  and  his  notorious  dislike  of  the 
French. 

Up  to  this  time,  then,  he  had  conceived  no  offence  against 
the  Cardinal,  or  had  contrived  to  conceal  his  displeasure.  It 
was  not  known  to  the  King  or  Wolsey  ;  for  immediately  after 
the  French  interview  the  Duke  was  selected  to  wait  upon  the 
King  at  Calais  and  at  Gravelines,  and  assist  at  the  meeting 
with  the  Emperor.^  He  distinguished  himself  on  this  occasion 
by  his  cordial  reception  of  the  imperial  envoy,  the  Marquis 
d'Arschot.^  In  attributing  to  the  Duke  a  violent  dislike  to  the 
French  King,  Shakespeare  adheres  to  historical  accuracy. 
The  Duke's  cordiality  to   the  imperial  envoy,  his   desire  to 

1  Chron.,  p.  620.  *  III.  906. 

2  See  II.  2987.  4  III.  903. 


1521.]  BUCKINGHAM  BETRAYED.  377 

in-omote  a  union  with  Charles,  were  prompted  as  much  by 
that  dishke,  as  by  any  jealousy,  real  or  supposed,  of  the 
Cardiual's  overweening  influence.  From  that  date  until  the 
end  of  November  his  name  disappears  from  the  page  of 
history. 

In  the  autumn  of  1520  we  come  upon  a  paper  of  instruc- 
tions^ given  by  the  Duke  to  his  chaplain  and  chancellor 
Eobert  Gilbert,  afterwards  produced  as  a  witness  against  him, 
and  upon  whose  evidence,  as  well  as  that  of  his  steward 
Charles  Knyvet,  the  Duke  was  mainly  condemned.^  Gilbert 
enjoyed  the  Duke's  confidence.  The  names  of  Gilbert  and  of 
Charles  Knyvet  frequently  occur  in  the  Duke's  miscellaneous 
accounts ;  for,  besides  acting  in  the  capacity  of  chaplain, 
Gilbert  seems  to  have  been  employed  as  a  confidential  agent 
in  many  of  the  Duke's  pecuniary  transactions.^  From  the 
paper  just  referred  to  it  appears  that  the  Duke  had  already 
begun  to  suspect  some  act  of  treason  in  his  household.  For, 
among  other  directions,  Gilbert  is  ordered  to  proceed  to 
Oxford,  and  inform  Dr.  Bentley,  the  Duke's  physician,^  of  the 
Cardinal's  conduct,  and  what  Margaret  Gedding  (apparently 
a  waiting- woman  of  the  Duchess)  had  declared  upon  oath 
respecting  Charles  Knyvet.  The  name  of  Margaret  Gedding 
occurs  again  shortl}^  after,  in  connection  with  this  mysterious 
affair ;  Gilbert  is  directed  to  ascertain  whether  Margaret 
Gedding  has  misreported  the  Duke  to  the  Cardinal,  and  he  is 
ordered  to  inquu-e  of  the  Lady  Fitzwalter,^  the  Duke's  sister, 
whether  she  would  advise  the  Duke  to  take  Margaret  again 
into  his  service.  These  notices  are  followed  by  one  still  more 
remarkable,  which  might  lead  us  to  surmise,  if  indeed  surmise 
may  be  safely  hazarded  on  so  obscure  a  subject,  that  the  Duke 
and  the  Duchess  did  not  live  happily  together.^  Gilbert,  after 
delivering  a  letter  to  the  same  Lady  Fitzwalter,  is  directed  by 
the  Duke  "to  show  her  the  demeanor  of  my  Lady  our  wife, 
and  also  to  my  lord  Fitzwalter.  And,  therefore,  my  lady 
Fitzwalter  may  do  us  great  pleasure  and  comfort  to  purvey 
us  of  a  sad  (steady)  woman  to  be  about  her  (the  Duchess) ; 

*  III.  1070.  Heneage,    gentleman    usher    to    tho 

^  See  his  confession  and  deposition  Cardinal  (Wolsey),  in  reward,  6s,  8d." 

against  the  Duke,  III.  p.  494.  p.  504. 

2  See  pp.  499,  501,  502-505.     One  *  See  III.  p.  501. 

of  these  entries  is  too  curious  and  in-  *  Robert   Ratcliffe,   Earl   of   Fitz- 

teresting  not  to  be  noticed ;  it  refers  waiter,    married    the    Duke's    sister 

to  tho   13th  November  of  this  year  :  Elizabeth. 

"  Paid  by  Robert  Gilbert,  chajilain  to  "  The    Duke's    wife    was    Elinor, 

the   Duke,   16th    March,   to   Thomas  daughter  of  Henry,  Eai'l  of  Northum- 


378  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENEY   VIII.  [A.D. 

for  we  think  the  demeanor  of  my  Lady  is  such  that  Margaret 
Gedding  would  be  loth  to  be  about  her ;  and  to  know  who  told 
her  of  the  things  we  should  do  {i.e.  we  did)  at  Southampton." 
Of  this  Margaret  Gedding  we  have  no  other  notice  than  what 
is  furnished  by  the  Duke's  private  accounts.  In  1518  the  sum 
of  151.  was  paid  to  her  for  the  funeral  of  Elizabeth  Knyvet, 
the  Duke's  cousin ;  and  she  is  doubtless  the  person  referred 
to  as  "  Mrs.  G.,"  that  is,  Miss  Gedding,  who  receives  as  a  New 
Year's  gift  from  the  Duke  the  extraordinary  sum  of  13L  6s.  8d., 
and  her  mother  40s. ^ 

It  is  not  improbable  that  the  Duke's  conduct  in  relation  to 
Elizabeth  Knyvet  was  one  of  the  causes  of  his  surveyor's 
resentment.  Evidence  occurs  more  than  once  of  the  Duke's 
arbitrary  conduct  to  his  servants  and  his  inferiors.  Here  we 
have  an  information  against  the  Duke  for  wrongfully  with- 
holding the  goods  of  Elizabeth  Knyvet,  deceased ;  ^  there,  a 
petition  to  the  King  from  his  tenants  in  Thornbury,  complain- 
ing of  the  inclosures  made  by  the  late  Duke  of  Buckingham.^ 
In  the  survey  of  his  lands  by  the  King's  officers  after  his 
death,  it  is  stated  that  he  had  "  enclosed  into  the  park  "  at 
Thornbury  "  divers  men's  lands,  as  well  of  freehold  as  copy- 
hold, and  no  recompense  as  yet  is  made  for  the  same."* 
Eents  and  farms  are  described  as  "  decayed  from  inclosures." 
In  the  paper  already  mentioned,  Gilbert  has  orders  to  see  Sir 
John  Coke,  lately  the  Duke's  chaplain,  arrested  for  leaving 
his  service  contrary  to  his  oath ;  and  the  same  process  is  to 
be  put  in  force  against  another  of  the  Duke's  dependents, 
named  Gamme.  In  fact,  indications  crop  out,  that,  however 
popular  the  Duke  might  have  been  with  comparative  strangers, 
for  his  courtesy  and  munificence — virtues  which  cannot  be 
denied  him — he  was  not  beloved  by  his  retainers,  or  his 
immediate  neighbours. 

berland.      To    show    how    intimately       the    great    houses    in    England,   the 
the  Duke's  family  was  connected  with       following  table  may  be  found  useful. 

Edward,  Duke  of  Buckingham  =  Elinor,  dau.  of  Henry,  Earl  of 

Northumberland. 


Henry  Stafford ;  Elizabeth ;              Katharine ;                   Mary ; 

mar.  mar.                           mar.                           mar. 

Ursula  d.  of  Thomas  d.  of         Ralph  Neville         George  Nevill 

Margaret  Countess  Norfolk.                   Earl  of            Lord  Abergavenny. 

of  Sarum.  Westmoreland. 

'  III.  p.  498.  3  III.  1288  (6). 

==  III.  1288  (10).  *  III.  p.  506. 


1521.]  WAS   KXYVET   THE   INFORMER?  379 

Upon  Charles  Knyvet,  the  Duke's  cousin  and  surveyor,  the 
imputation  has  hitherto  rested  of  being  the  foremost  to  betray 
the  Duke, — the  mahce  of  Wolsey  always  excepted.  So  deeply 
has  this  conviction  been  rooted  in  the  minds  not  only  of 
ordinary  readers,  but  of  historians,  by  the  genius  of  Shake- 
speare, that  it  might  seem  invidious  to  disturb  it.  There  are 
reasons,  however,  for  questioning  the  accuracy  of  the  general 
impression.  The  principal  culprit  was  not  Knyvet,  but 
Margaret  Geddiug,  or  more  probably  Eobert  Gilbert,  the 
Duke's  chaplain  and  chancellor.  That  Knyvet  was  not  the 
first  or  the  original  informer — that  Wolsey  was  not  so  hungry 
for  the  Duke's  destruction,  as  historians,  unsusjjiciously  fol- 
lowing that  old  libeller  and  maligner  Polydore  Vergil,  assume 
too  readil}^ — is  clear,  I  think,  from  the  following  unsigned 
letter  addressed  to  the  Cardinal :  ^ — 

"  Please  it  your  Grace  to  be  remembered  ;  as  touching  tlie  matter  that 
I  showed  unto  your  Grace  at  More  of  Charles  Knyvet,  &c.,  wherein  ye 
advertised  and  commanded  me  that  I  should  handle  it  furtlier,  the  best 
I  could,  to  bring  it  to  light  and  better  knowledge  ;  so  it  is  that  I  have 
communed  with  him  divers  times  this  last  term,  and  persuaded  him  in  the 
matter  as  far  as  I  might,  in  such  wise  that  he  should  not  suspect  my 
meaning  therein  ;  and  in  effect  he  resteth  still  in  his  first  mind,  affirming 
the  chief  cause  of  his  putting  away  was  for  disclosing  of  certain  matters 
to  Mr.  Lark,  to  be  opened  unto  your  Grace.  I  answered  him  I  marvelled 
much  that  he  did  not  resort  unto  Mr.  Lark,  and  showed  him  the  same,  it 
were  the  next  mean  to  induce  your  Gi-ace  to  be  his  better  good  lord. 
He  said  that  your  Grace  had  partly  knowledge  thereof  already  ;  for  this 
last  term  ye  had  sent  word  to  the  Duke,  by  his  chancellor,'^  to  have  him- 
self in  await  ;  and  although  that  he  used  to  rail  upon  your  Grace,  yet  that 
he  should  take  heed  liow  that  he  did  use  himself  towards  the  King's 
highness.  I  showed  Charles  again,  though  so  it  were,  yet  was  that 
neither  thankful  to  him  nor  his  discharge.  Then  he  answered  me  how 
that  he  labored  to  be  the  King's  servant,  and  if  he  were  once  sworn  and 
admitted,  then  durst  he  speak  boldly,  and  would  tell  all.  And  further 
he  said,  '  Then  will  I  speak,  by  Saint  Mary,  for  it  toucheth  the  King  in 
deed.'  And  so,  if  it  please  your  Grace,  of  likelihood  some  great  matter 
there  is,  or  else  is  Charles  a  marvellous  simple,  insolent  body.  Very  good 
jjolicy  it  were  to  h;ive  the  truth  known. 

"  The  King  tliat  dead  is  (whom  God  pardon  !)  would  handle  such  a 
cause  circumspectly,  and  with  convenient  diligence,  for  inveigling,  and 
yet  not  disclose  it  to  the  party  nor  otherwise  liy  a  great  space  after,  l)ut 
keep  it  to  himself,  and  always  gr(j])e  further,  having  ever  good  await  and 
esi)ial  to  the  party.  I  am  sure  his  Highness  know  of  the  untrue  mind  and 
treason  compassed  against  him  by  Sir  William  Stanley  and  divers  otlier 
great  men,  two  or  three  years  before  that  he  laid  it  to  their  charge  ;  and 
kej)t  it  secret,  and  always  gathered  u])()n  thorn  more  and  more.  And  as 
unto  this  matter,  if  any  weight  l>e  therein,  to  bring  it  to  light,  under  the 
reformation  of  your  Grace,  after  my  poor  mind  this  were  the  mean  ; — that 
your  Grace  should  send  for  Charles  to  come  before  you,  showing  unto  him 
tliat  as  ye  have  heard  he  should  be  [put]  from  the  Duke,  wliereof  ye 
much  marvel,  considering  the  great  service  that  lie  hath  done  him,  and 

'  ill.  1283.  «  Robert  Gilbert. 


S80  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

how  near  he  is  of  his  blood.  And  thereupon  I  think  that  Charles  will  be 
plain,  and  disclose  to  your  Grace  everything.  If  not,  your  Grace  then 
may  show  unto  him  that  ye  have  heard,  by  divers  servants  that  the  Duke 
hath  lately  put  from  him,  liow  that  in  his  fumes  and  displeasures  he  will 
oftimes  rail  and  misuse  himself  in  his  words,  as  well  against  your  Grace  as 
against  the  King's  highness  ;  and  ye  doubt  not  but  that  he  that  hath  been 
so  great  and  secret  with  him,  and  in  so  good  trust,  that  he  hath  heard  and 
knoweth  much  more  of  his  inward  mind  than  any  other  ;  charging  him 
therefore  to  be  plain,  both  for  his  thank,  and  also  for  his  own  discharge 
in  that  behalf,  according  to  the  duty  of  his  allegiance  ;  and  that  [if]  he 
fear  not  to  speak  truly,  the  King  and  your  Grace  both  will  be  his  good 
lord,  so  that  the  Duke  shall  neither  do  him  hurt  nor  displeasure  ;  and 
yet  if  he  color  or  stick,  then  your  Grace  to  show  yourself  more  grievous 
and  displeasant  unto  him.  And  show  him  also  that  great  marvel  it  is  that 
he  will  conceal  unto  your  Grace  that  matter  which  toucheth  and  con- 
cerneth  as  well  you  as  the  King's  highness,  which  he  hath  opened  and 
disclosed  to  divers  other  ;  reciting  him  then  the  effect  of  my  former 
wi'iting  delivered  your  Grace  at  More,  which  at  all  times  I  shall  be  ready 
to  avow  and  justify,  if  it  so  come  to  pass,  as  my  duty  bindeth  me,  with 
these  premises  ;  albeit  loth  were  I  so  to  do,  if  the  matter  might  come 
otherwise  to  revelation. 

"  Please  it  your  Grace  further,  there  is  a  bill  of  articles  come  this  last 
term  to  my  hands,  amongst  other  remembrances,  touching  such  covenants 
as  Sir  Nicholas  Vaux  bound  himself  unto  by  indenture  and  other  wi'iting[s] 
and  bonds,  when  the  King  that  dead  is  appointed  him  to  the  office  of 
Guysnes  ;  which  writings  and  indentures  I  made  by  the  King's  command- 
ment. Meseemeth  it  requisite  that  your  Grace  have  sight  thereof,  to  the 
intent  ye  may  examine  at  your  leisure  whether  he  hath  and  doth  perform 
and  observe  everything  concerning  the  same.  Therefore  I  do  send  your 
Grace  the  said  bill  herein  enclosed.  I  think  by  leisure  I  shall  find  the 
very  copies  of  the  indentures,  and  also  much  like  writings  and  indentures 
touching  the  Lord  Moimtjoie  for  the  office  of  Hammes.  And  thus  the 
Blessed  Trinity  have  your  Grace  always  in  His  holy  tuition." 

The  original  informer,  then,  and  prime  mover  in  this  design 
against  the  Duke  must  have  been  the  author  of  this  letter, 
whoever  he  was.  He  must  also  have  been  intimate  with 
Knyvet  and  well  acquainted  with  his  secrets.  He  avows  his 
willingness,  if  need  be,  to  come  forward  and  justify  the  in- 
sinuations he  had  already  thrown  out  against  the  Duke  in  a 
previous  letter  to  the  Cardinal,  "if  it  so  come  to  pass  as  my 
duty  bindeth  me  with  these  premises  ;  albeit  loth  were  I  so  to 
do,  if  the  matter  might  come  otherwise  to  revelation." 

Now,  unless  the  writer  were  under  some  obligation  to  the 
Duke,  or  in  danger  from  his  power,  it  is  not  easy  to  surmise 
upon  what  grounds  he  should  be  loth  to  avow  his  knowledge 
of  the  Duke's  treasonable  practices.  That  the  letter  must 
have  been  written  either  by  some  one  in  the  Duke's  service, 
or  by  one  who  had  been  long  and  intimately  acquainted  with 
the  Duke's  family,  is  without  dispute.  Who  except  Gilbert  or 
Delacourt,  the  Duke's  confessor,  could  have  possessed  such  an 
intimate  knowledge,  as  this  letter  reveals,  of  what  was  passing 


1521.]  BUCKINGHAM   NOT   WOLSETP'S   VICTIM.  8S1 

in  the  Duke's  household?  Yet  Gilbert,  called  by  Hall  "the 
first  accuser  of  the  Duke,"  must  be  acquitted  of  this  treachery  ; 
for  he  is  mentioned  here,  in  the  third  person,  as  the  Duke's 
chancellor  ; — and  Delacourt  had  no  such  employment  at  Court 
as  this  letter  writer  appears  to  have  held.  The  handwriting 
is  clear,  stiff,  and  formal ;  like  that  of  one  who  had  been 
accustomed  to  make  "  writings  and  indentures."  Who,  again, 
are  the  discharged  servants  alluded  to  ?  Who  except  Gilbert 
or  Delacourt  could  have  been  aware  that  Wolsey  had  sent  a 
message  some  time  before  to  Buckingham,  secretly  warning 
him  that,  though  he  might  indulge  in  railing  against  himself, 
he  should  take  care  how  he  "  did  use  himself  towards  his 
Highness  "  ?  Would  so  important  a  witness  have  been  per- 
mitted to  go  at  large,  or  not  have  been  produced  at  the  trial  ? 
Yet,  with  the  exception  of  Knyvet,  who  is  out  of  the  question, 
and  of  Nicholas  Hopkyns,  whose  handwriting  differs  from  that 
of  the  letter,  no  other  witnesses  besides  Gilbert  and  Delacourt 
were  produced  against  the  Duke.  Both  also  were  committed 
to  safe  custody  in  the  Tower;  as  much,  no  doubt,  out  of 
regard  to  their  personal  security,  as  to  the  integrity  of  their 
evidence.  Gilbert's  testimony  is  aggravated  by  bitter  hatred, 
and  malignant  betrayal  of  details  in  the  Duke's  conversation, 
not  unlike  the  tone  of  a  man  who  had  been  false  to  his  master, 
and  sought  to  cover  his  falsehood  by  exaggerated  statements.^ 
Can  he,  then,  have  been  the  author  of  the  letter  ?  And  did  he 
speak  of  himself  in  the  third  person,  as  the  Duke's  chancellor, 
in  order  to  escape  detection  ? 

But  be  this  conjecture  probable  or  not,  the  letter  shows 
that  the  popular  account  of  Wolsey's  inveterate  malice  and 
his  supposed  designs  against  the  life  of  the  Duke,  rest  on  no 
certain  foundation.  The  calumny  was  derived  from  Polydore 
Vergil,^  and  rests  on  no  other  authority.     Not  a  word  of  it 

'  See  his  Confession.  their  intolerable  char2:e  and  expense  : 
2  In  that  portion  of  his  history  "Butnamely  the  duke  of  Buckingham, 
which  relates  to  the  Duke,  Vergil  being  a  man  of  a  lofty  courage,  but  not 
sought  chiefly  to  gratify  his  spite  most  liberal  [this  is  false],  sore  repined 
against  the  Cardinal,  and  blacken  his  that  ho  should  be  at  so  groat  charges 
memory.  According  to  Polydore, —  for  his  furniture  forth  at  this  time, 
who  has  been  literally  translated  by  saying  that  he  knew  not  for  what 
Holinshed,  unsuspiciously  followed  by  cause  so  much  money  should  be  spent 
Herbert,  and  of  course  by  most  his-  about  the  sight  of  a  vain  talk  to  bo 
torians  since, — on  receiving  letters  to  had,  and  communication  to  be  minis- 
prepare  themselves  to  attend  the  King  tered,  of  things  of  no  importaiico. 
on  his  journey  to  France,  "  and  no  Wherefore  ho  stickcd  not  to  say  that 
apparent  necessary  cause  expressed,"  it  was  an  intolerable  matter  to  obey 
the  nobles  grudged  that  such  a  costly  such  a  vile  and  importunate  person 
journey  shrjuld  bo  taken   in  hand  to  (as  Wolsey)."     This  is  I'olydore's  ver- 


382 


THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH. 


[A.D. 


is  to  be  found  in  the  pages  of  Hall,  whose  sympathy  with  the 
Duke  is  so  manifest,  and  so  strong  his  dishke  of  the  Cardinal, 
that  he  would  scarcely  have  suppressed  a  circumstance  so 
unfavourable  as  this  is  to  the  Cardinal's  memory,  had  there 
been  any  truth  in  it. 

The  Duke  was  tried  at  Westminster  by  seventeen  of  his 
peers,  on  Monday  after  Ascension  Day,  that  is,  on  the  13th  of 
May,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  acting  as  lord  high  steward.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  in  Shakespeare's  play  the  Duke  is 
declared  guilty  by  the  King  at  a  meeting  of  the  Privy  Council, 
even  before  his  regular  trial  had  taken  place; — a  process 
altogether  informal.  In  the  Council  Chamber  in  which  Queen 
Katharine  and  Wolsey  are  present,  the  King  is  represented  as 


sion  of  the  report  preserved  by  De  la 
Saach :  that  when  the  Duke  and 
other  nobles  were  warned  to  attend 
the  King  at  the  interview,  they  were 
said  to  hare  replied,  that  as  this  had 
been  determined  on  without  their 
cognizance  they  woiild  require  at  least 
three  months  for  preparation. 

Vergil  then  proceeds  to  tell  us 
that  when  these  words  came  to  the 
Cardinal's  ears,  Wolsey,  cruel  and 
forgetful  of  his  holy  functions  (as  if 
Polydore's  holy  functions  consisted  in 
malice  and  evil  speaking),  and  deter- 
mined to  lure  on  the  Duke  to  destruc- 
tion, the  better  to  execute  his  purpose, 
sent  Surrey,  who  had  married  the 
Duke's  daughter  (Elizabeth),  into  Ire- 
land, "  lest  he  might  cast  a  trump  in 
his  way.  There  was  great  enmity 
betwixt  the  Cardinal  and  the  Earl ; 
for  that  on  a  time  when  the  Cardinal 
took  upon  him  to  check  the  Earl,  he 
had  like  to  have  thrust  his  dagger 
into  the  Cardinal."  He  adds  that 
an  opportunity  was  given  by  the 
arrival  of  Kildare  in  England,  well 
provided  with  money,  whom  Wolsey 
resolved  to  fleece,  and  therefore 
accused  him  to  the  King,  and  had 
Surrey  sent  in  his  place.  (The  false- 
hood of  this  statement  may  be  seen 
by  referring  to  the  King's  letter  to 
the  Council  in  Ireland,  III.  860.)  The 
next  step  was  to  get  rid  of  the  Earl 
of  Northumberland  (whose  daughter 
the  Duke  had  married)  ;  and  therefore 
the  Cardinal  picked  a  quarrel  with 
him  for  seizing  "  upon  certain  wards 
which  the  Cardinal  said  appertained 
of  right  to  the  King  :  and  as  North- 
umberland refused  to  give  them  up 
he  was  committed  to  prison. 


"  Now,  in  the  meanwhile,  the  Car- 
dinal ceased  not  to  bring  the  Duke 
out  of  the  King's  favor,  by  such 
forged  tales  and  contrived  surmises  as 
he  daily  put  into  the  King's  head; 
insomuch  that  through  the  infelicity 
of  his  fate  divers  accidents  fell  out,  to 
the  advantage  of  the  Cardinal ;  which 
he  not  omitting,  achieved  the  thing 
whereat  he  so  studiously,  for  the 
satisfying  of  his  cankered  and  malicious 
stomach,  laid  full  aim.  Now,  it  chanced 
that  the  Duke  coming  to  London  with 
his  train  of  men,  to  attend  the  King 
into  France,  went  before  into  Kent, 
unto  a  manor-place  which  he  had 
there.  And  whilst  he  stayed  in  that 
country  till  the  King  set  forward, 
grievous  complaints  were  exhibited  to 
him  by  his  farmers  and  tenants  against 
Charles  Knevet,  his  surveyor,  for  such, 
bribing  as  he  had  used  there  amongst 
them.  Whereupon  the  Duke  took 
such  displeasure  against  him  that  he 
deprived  him  of  his  oiiice,  not  knowing 
how  that  in  so  doing  he  procured  his 
own  destruction." 

Then,  after  interspersing  some 
remarks,  not  pertinent  to  our  subject, 
Polydore  proceeds  to  narrate  how  the 
Cardinal,  "  boiling  in  hatred  against 
the  duke  of  Buckingham,  and  thirsting 
for  his  blood,  devised  to  make  Charles 
Knyvet  an  instrument  to  bring  the 
Duke  to  destruction." 

That  Polydore's  narrative  is  little 
better  than  a  tissue  of  misrepresenta- 
tion,  exaggeration,  and  falsehood,  de- 
vised by  this  partial  historian  to 
gratify  his  hostility  to  the  Cardinal, 
is  abundantly  clear  from  the  docu- 
ments contained  in  volume  III.  of  the 
Calendar. 


1521.]     PROSECUTION  OF  BUCKINGHAM  IN  SHAKESPEARE.      383 

conducting  the  examination  of  the  Duke's  surveyor,  Charles 
Knyvet,   in  j^erson.     The  Duke  has  no  one  there  to  defend 
him ;  the  witnesses  are  not  subjected  to  cross-examination, 
nor  is  any  attempt  made  to  ascertain  the  accuracy  of  their 
charges,    or   to   test   their   honesty   and   good   faith  by  the 
methods  now  adopted  in  similar  cases.     The  Duke's  guilt  is 
assumed  upon  their  unsupported  assertions.     In  this  travestie 
of  justice,  the  Queen  is  the  only  person  who  appears  to  retain 
any  sense  of  what  is  due  to  reason  and  equity ;   but  she  is  too 
feeble  an  advocate,  too  much  bewildered    by   the   sophistry 
which   she   feels,    but   is   unable  to  unravel,  to   render  the 
accused  any  effectual  help.   Besides,  when  kings  sit  in  council, 
who  shall  contradict  them  ?     When  their  minds  are  already 
made  up,  "  God  mend  all,"  is  the  natural  and  sole  reflection 
which  presents  itself  to  the  thoughts  of  inferiors.     Strange  as 
this  proceeding  may  appear,  it  is  not  due  merely  to  the  poet's 
imagination.     It  presents  us  with  a  general  likeness  of  State 
j)rosecutions  in  the  Tudor  times.     The  presumption  that  men 
are  innocent  until  they  are  legally  proved  to  be  guilty,  the 
facilities    granted    to    the    accused    for    substantiating    his 
innocence  by  retaining  the  ablest  advocate,  the  methods  for 
sifting  evidence  now  in  use,  had  no  existence  then.     In  crimes 
against  the  sovereign,  real  or  supposed,  men  were  presumed 
to  be  guilty  until  they  had  proved  themselves  to  be  innocent, 
and   that  proof  was  involved   in  endless  difficulties.     What 
advocate  or  what  witness  would  have  ventured  to  brave  the 
displeasure  of  a  Tudor  king,   by  appearing  in  defence  of  a 
criminal,  on  whose  guilt  the  King  had  pronounced  already  ? 

With  the  exception  of  making  Wolsey  present  at  the 
examination  of  the  Duke's  servants  and  surveyor,  Shakespeare 
has  strictly  adhered  to  facts  in  this  preliminary  examination 
of  the  Duke's  servants.  We  have  indisputable  evidence  that 
it  was  conducted  by  the  King  in  person,  assisted  by  Euthal, 
Secretary  of  State.  For  on  the  16th  of  April,  Pace,  then  at 
Greenwich  with  the  King,  wrote,  in  answer  to  the  Cardinal's 
request  for  Euthal  to  be  sent  to  him,  that  the  King  would  not 
suffer  him  to  leave, ^  but  had  commanded  him  to  tarry  at 
Greenwich  for  examination  of  certain  things  connected  with 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  servants.  He  adds  that  Ptuthal 
was  then  sending  to  Wolsey  a  letter  written  by  the  King's 
command  for  "  such  as  shall  see  to  the  keeping  of  the  said 
Duke's  house  during  his  absence ;  "  that  is,  whilst  he  was  at 

'  111.  i-s.yi. 


884  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

London  taking  his  trial ;  for  he  was  not  then  in  custody.  On 
the  hack  also  of  a  private  letter  addressed  to  Pace  from  Kome 
by  the  Bishop  of  Worcester,  he  has  jotted  down  two  or  three 
obscure  memoranda  relating  to  this  tragic  affair,  showing 
that  the  King  had  already  made  up  his  mind  as  to  the  Duke's 
guilt  and  condemnation.  "The  King  is  convinced,"  so  run 
these  fragmentary  notices,  "  that  Buckingham  will  be  found 
guilty,  and  be  condemned  by  the  Lords ;  and  for  this  matter, 
and  for  the  affairs  of  Ireland,  a  Parliament  will  be  summoned." 
"  The  monk  (Hopkyns)  and  Delacourt  (the  Duke's  chaplain) 
have  been  sent  to  the  Tower.  Arthur  Pole  (the  Duke's 
cousin)  has  been  expelled  the  court."  Then  follows  a  most 
tantalizing  passage,  the  meaning  of  which  cannot  be  clearly 
made  out ;  and  the  whole  ends  with  this  remark  :  "  As  to  the 
countess  of  Salisbury,  nothing  has  yet  been  decided,  on 
account  of  her  noble  birth  and  many  virtues  {honitatem)."^ 

From  these  passages  it  seems  to  me  unquestionable,  that 
it  was  the  King  himself  who  was  most  active  in  the  prosecution 
of  the  Duke ;  not  active  only,  but,  as  Shakespeare  describes 
him,  fully  convinced  beforehand  of  his  guilt,  and  resolved  on 
his  condemnation.  Why  the  countess  of  Salisbury^  (who 
escaped  on  this  occasion  only  to  fall  by  the  executioner  at  a 
later  period)  was  spared  "  in  consequence  of  her  high  birth 
and  virtues,"  I  do  not  pretend  to  inquire.  To  some  of  my 
readers  it  may  suggest  a  conclusion  I  forbear  to  draw  from 
expressions  so  brief  and  so  ambiguous. 

Whilst  his  surveyor  and  his  chancellor,  unknown  to  the 
Duke,  were  either  in  the  Tower  or  closeted  with  the  King  at 
Greenwich,  concocting  evidence  for  their  master's  fall,  the 
Duke  was  idling  away  his  hours  at  Thornbury,  either  in 
listening  to  the  sermons  of  Stanley,  an  Oxford  friar  (for  he 
was  deeply  tinctured  with  religious  terrors — no  wonder),  or 
in  making  offerings  to  the  holy  relics  and  blood  at  Hales,  and 
at  other  consecrated  shrines,  in  which  the  neighbourhood  of 
Thornbury  abounded.^  On  Monday,  the  8th  ^  of  April,  a 
messenger,  to  whom  the  Duke  ordered  a  gratuity  of  a  mark, 
arrived  with  letters  from  the  King,  commanding  the  Duke  to 
repair  instantly  to  London.  He  set  out,  wholly  unconscious 
of  the  purport  of  the  summons.  His  progress  day  by  day 
may  be  traced  in  the  diary  of  his  accounts.     At  Beading  he 

»  See  III.  1204.  daughter,  Ursula. 

-  Lord   Stafford,  the  Duke's  only  ^  See  the  diary,  III.  p.  500. 

son,  was  married   to   the    Countess's  *  Misprinted  18th.     Ibid.,  p.  501. 


1521.]  BUCKIXGHAM   AITREHENDED.  385 

made  an  oblation  of  6.s.  Sd.  to  "  the  child  of  grace  ;  "  to  Our 
Lady  of  Eyton  near  Windsor,  on  the  14th,  6s.  8d. ;  and  as 
knight  of  the  garter,  he  presented  to  the  keeper  of  the  garter 
robes  at  Windsor  the  sum  of  20.s.     Here,  for  the  first  time, 
the  real  nature  of  that  mission  on  which  he  was  bound  flashed 
upon   the   unhappy   prisoner.     Wherever   he   turned,   armed 
men,  as  if  watching  his  movements,  seemed  to  hover  in  the 
distance  :  at  every  winding  of  the  road,  as  if  to  cut  off  all  hope 
of  escape,  real  or  imaginary,  they  drew  more  closely  upon 
him.     Such  conduct  at  first  attracted  no  attention.     It  was 
not  unusual  for  soldiers  and  archers  to  be  travelling  on  the 
road   to  Windsor  and   the   metropolis  either  for  the  King's 
service  or  for  other  purposes.     But  as  they  continued  to  press 
upon  his  rear,  and  dog  his  movements,  as  some  of  them  had 
even  the  audacity  to  take  up  their  lodgings  for  the  night  in 
the  hostelries  occupied  by  the  Duke,  his  anger  was  roused  at 
this  seeming  impertinence.    The  morning  after  he  had  arrived 
at  Windsor,  as  he  was  sitting  down  to  breakfast,  seeing  a 
royal  pursuivant  loitering  about  the  place,  the  Duke  some- 
what suddenly  and  sharply  demanded  of  him,  what  he  did 
there.     The  messenger  replied,  that  his  office  lay  there,  by 
the  King's  commandment.     Then,  for  the  first  time,  so  well 
had  the  secret  been  observed,  the  Duke  discovered  that  he  was 
a  prisoner.     The  news  fell  on  him  with  the  abruptness  of  the 
headsman's  axe.     He  turned  ashy  pale,  the  untasted  morsel 
dropped   from   his   lips,    death  was  before  him,  escape  was 
impossible. 

Evidently  he  had  not  expected  this.  Since  the  interview 
between  the  two  Kings  in  the  vale  of  Arde,  he  had  retired  to 
the  country,  never  making  his  appearance  in  London,  or 
taking  any  part  in  the  political  discussions  of  the  times.  He 
had  been  employed  in  superintending  his  garden,^  making 
curious  knots  and  summer  bowers,  or  busying  himself  with 
the  lying-in  of  Lady  Stafford,  his  son's  wife,  at  Thornbury.  If 
we  may  judge  from  his  papers,  his  employments  during  his 
retirement  were  as  far  removed  from  treason  or  plots  against 
the  State,  as  any  employments  could  well  be.  Next  to  making 
religious  offerings  at  different  shrines  on  every  holy  day,^  for 
which  the  Duke  seems  to  have  entertained  a  kind  of  passion, 

'   TIT.  p.  499.  TVinfo    Edward    at    Towkr.sbnry  ;    f^^o 

^  Jloro  are  a  few  :    To  onr  Lady  of  two  idiots — then  rof^ardod  witli  Piipor- 

Kiri^rswood;      to      St.      Aldlielui      at  stitions  reverence, — onoatDriiikwater, 

ilaliiicsbury  ;  to  St.  Ann  in  ( lie  Wood  ;  and  another  belonging  to  the  Abbot  of 

to  Our  Lady  of  Jielhoutse,  Bristol ;   to  Chichester. 

VOL.  I.  -    C 


386 


THE   REIGN  OF  HENRY   VHI. 


[A.D. 


his  chief  delight  was  in  training  horses  or  purchasing  dogs 
and  falcons.  Sometimes  these  occupations  were  varied  by 
others  of  a  different  character.  Poets,  harpers,  minstrels, 
players,  and  tumblers  amused  his  tastes  and  partook  of  his 
bounty.  On  one  occasion  he  gives  to  three  maidens  of 
Kainsham  8cl.,  in  May,  "  for  bringing  hawthorns  to  my  lord's 
grace  when  he  was  in  his  orchard;  "  at  another  time  he  pays 
6s.  Sd.  for  "  a  throstle  bird."  Part  of  his  care  is  centred  on 
"  little  Francis,"^  a  poor  child  whom  he  was  bringing  up  for 
a  scholar  at  Oxford,  on  the  recommendation  of  a  kind-hearted 
but  crazy  enthusiast,  Dan  Nicholas  Hopkyns,  a  monk  of  the 
Charterhouse  at  Henton,  who  brought  the  Duke  unintentionally 
into  trouble,  and  died  broken-hearted  after  his  fall.^ 

It  is  true  that  the  Duke  had  done  nothing  to  conciliate  the 
powerful  Cardinal,  now  grown  more  powerful  than  ever.     He 


*  This  child  was  placed  under  the 
care  of  the  prior  of  St.  John's  of  Jern- 
salem,  and  the  items  for  his  expendi- 
ture are  highly  curious  and  interesting. 
For  shaving  his  head  Id.,  a  pair  of  gloves 
2d.,  a  pair  of  shoes  6d.,  a  pair  of  hose 
lOd.,  a  silk  girdle  6d.,  writing-paper 
Id.,  pen  and  inkhorn  2d.,  washing  his 
petticoat  sundry  times  3d.,  mending 
and  dry-scouring  his  Kendal  coat  6d., 
a  shirt  20d.,  walking  shoes  8d.  "  For 
a  hen  at  Shrovetide,  for  Francis  to 
sport  him  with  the  childer,"  7d.,  a 
bow  6d.,  shafts  3d.,  strings,  shooting 
glove  and  brace  3d.  The  Duke  gives 
him  40s.  as  a  reward.  See  III. 
pp.  503,  504. 

-  Here  is  the  monk's  letter,  III. 
1277  :— 

"  My  most  singular  and  gracious 
lord  in  God.  I,  your  poor  and  un- 
worthy orator,  desirous  of  your  noble 
Grace's  prosperity,  which  our  Lord 
God  omnipotent  of  His  infinite  mercy 
and  goodness  continually  conserve 
from  all  misadventure  and  peril,  as 
well  in  this  miserable  woi'ld  as  in  the 
celestial  world  to  come,  where  as  is 
perdurable  joy  ineffable,  attempt  now 
to  write  unto  your  gracious  Highuess, 
trusting  and  also  beseeching  your 
noble  Grace  to  accept  my  charitable 
striving,  as  your  noble  Grace  has  done 
herebefore.  And  whereas  I  now  with 
fervent  charity  am  moved  to  be  de- 
sirous of  your  noble  Grace's  charity, 
I  beseech  your  Lord's  grace  (sic)  to 
condescend  unto  my  desirous  petition, 
forasmuch  as  it  is  to  the  augmenting 


of  God's  service,  and  specially  as  I  do 
fey[th]fully  trust  it  will  be  in  time 
coming  to  the  great  comfort  of  our 
small  company  and  place. 

"  There  is  now  with  us  a  poor 
child  of  14  year  of  age,  which  is  vir- 
tuously disposed,  intending  to  be  of  our 
holy  religion  when  Almighty  God 
send  time  lawful ;  imto  whom,  for  the 
virtue  and  grace  that  I  daily  see  in 
him,  I  owe  great  favor.  Wherefore, 
if  it  might  please  your  noble  goodness 
to  do  your  alms  upon  him,  finding  him 
to  liis  grammar  till  he  be  full  twenty 
year,  which  (when)  without  doubt  I 
trust  verily  ye  shall  have  of  him  a 
good  and  a  virtuous  religious  man, 
and  also  a  true  and  trusty  headman. 
And  moreover,  after  my  confident 
feeling,  I  believe  it  shall  be  to  your 
Lord's  grace  as  charitable  deed  before 
Almighty  God,  and  as  well  accept  as 
ever  was  deed  of  charity  by  your 
noble  Grace's  power  done.  As  knoweth 
Jesus,  which  be  ever  your  protector, 
and  at  His  most  pleasure  be  once 
your  Lord's  grace  conductor  unto  our 
poor  place.     Amen. 

"  Written  at  Charterhouse,  Hen- 
ton,  by  your  simple  and  un- 
worthy orator, 
"  Dan  Nych'as  Hopkyns,  Vicar." 

Addi-essed  :  "  Illustrissimo  in 
Christo  Domino,  domino  Edwardo  duci 
Buckingamias,  tradatnr  haeo  litera 
cum  honore." 

Also  :  "  To  the  right  honorable 
and  his  singular  good  lord,  my  lord 
Chamberlain." 


1521.] 


BUCKINGHAM   APPREHENDED. 


387 


had  been  at  no  pains  to  conceal  his  dislike  and  contempt  of 
one,  who  like  a  cloud  "  had  darkened  his  clear  sun."  Never, 
like  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  had  he  graced  by  his  presence  those 
occasions  in  which  Wolsey  shone  forth,  as  another  and  scarcely 
second  sun,  in  some  religious  or  state  ceremonial.  But  he 
had  taken  more  than  ordinary  pains,  and  apparently  not 
without  success,  to  regain  the  favour  of  the  King.    In  August, 

1519,  he  had  entertained  Henry  and  his  retinue  magnificently 
at  Penshurst  for  several  days.^  The  same  year  he  entered 
into  the  questionable  amusements  and  gaieties  of  the  court 
with  an  abandonment  hazardous  to  a  man  of  his  high  spirit 
and  hasty  temper.  Along  with  other  fashions  introduced  into 
this  country  by  the  French  hostages  was  a  taste  for  gambling, 
in  which  the  King  and  many  of  his  immediate  attendants 
engaged  with  the  rash  ardour  and  unguarded  inexperience  of 
novices.  On  one  occasion  the  Duke  lost  at  dice  with  "  the 
Duke  of  Suffolk  and  the  Frenchmen "  no  less  a  sum  than 
761.  Is.  M.,  that  is  upwards  of  1,000L  in  modern  computation.^ 
At  another  time,  he  lost  to  the  Lord  Montague  651.  2s.  9d.,  to 
the  King  at  tennis  141.,  to  Suffolk  at  shooting  311.  6s.  8d., 
and  again  to  Suffolk  and  others,  "since  coming  to  the  King," 
511.  16s.  8d.  He  was  apparently  sobered  by  these  and  other 
heavy  sacrifices,  for  no  sums  are  entered  in  his  subsequent 
accounts  for  losses  incurred  at  play.^  If  we  except  some  hasty 
and  unguarded  expressions  dropped  in  the  irritation  of  the 
moment  in  the  recesses  of  his  family  circle — and  even  these 
are  uncertain — conscious  of  his  blood,  his  great  wealth  and 
popularity,  he  seems  to  have  been  more  than  usually  cautious 
of  provoking  the  King's  displeasure.     Until  the   autumn  of 

1520,  and  for  the  three  years  previous,  he  had  been  in  favour 
at  court,  and  his  offences  (if  any)  had  been  forgotten  or 
forgiven.* 

To  return.     The  Duke  quailed,  but  only  for  a  moment — as 
what  spirit,  however  brave,  would  not  quail  in  the  pride  of  its 


1  III.  412. 

^  See  III.  p.  499.  On  one  occasion 
he  paid  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  in  full 
500  marks,  i.e.  upwards  of  3,000?.  of 
our  money,  for  losses  at  dice.    (p.  505.) 

'  As  niif^ht  be  expected,  there  aro 
various  entries,  at  the  same  time,  for 
money  borrowed  by  the  Duke,  on  his 
gold  chains,  jewels,  or  liis  bond ; 
doubtless  in  support  of  this  extrava- 
gance. 


*  On  Nov.  5,  1519,  he  had  a  j^rant 
from  the  crovi'n  of  the  wardship  of 
Thomas,  son  of  Gerald  FitzGerald, 
Earl  of  Kildaro.  See  also  II.,  Nos. 
1893,  1959,  2987,  4057,  4061.  4075, 
4124.  From  these  it  will  bo  seen  that 
up  to  the  interview  at  the  Field  of 
the  Cloth  of  Gold,  Buckingham  was 
not  only  in  favour  witli  the  Kinj^,  but 
as  ho  admits  (No.  29S7),  ho  owed  that 
favour  to  Wolsey's  interposition. 


388  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

strengtli  ? — at  such  a  sudden  prospect  of  death,  and  of  death 
in  a  form  so  hateful  as  the  doom  of  a  traitor.  Ordering  his 
horse  immediately,  he  rode  to  Tothill  Fields,  near  West- 
minster. On  taking  his  barge,  and  landing  at  the  stairs  of 
the  Cardinal's  palace,  his  worst  apprehensions  were  confirmed. 
In  reply  to  his  inquiries  he  was  told  that  the  Cardinal  was 
sick,  and  could  not  be  seen.  "  Well,"  said  the  Duke,  not 
abating  a  whit  of  his  high  spirit  at  this  new  demonstration  of 
danger,  "  I  will  yet  taste  of  my  Lord's  wine  or  (ere)  I  pass  :  " 
and  he  was  conducted  to  the  cellar  by  one  of  the  Cardinal's 
gentlemen  with  all  due  courtesy  and  reverence. 

Embarking  once  more  on  board  his  barge,  he  was  rowed 
down  the  river  to  London  Bridge.  As  the  barge  neared  the 
stairs  it  was  suddenly  boarded  by  Sir  Henry  Marny,  captain 
of  the  Guard,  attended  by  a  hundred  yeomen.  Attaching  the 
Duke  in  the  King's  name.  Sir  Henry  commanded  his  attendants 
to  retire  to  the  Duke's  manor  of  the  Rose  in  St.  Lawrence 
Pountney,  whilst  he  carried  his  prisoner,  who  had  now  landed 
at  the  Hay  Wharf,  through  Thames  Street  to  the  Tower. 
Here  Nicholas  Hopkyns,  the  Carthusian  monk,  John  Dela- 
court,  the  Duke's  confessor,  and  Robert  Gilbert,  his  chancellor, 
were  already  in  custody,  pending  the  Duke's  arrival.  Shortly 
after,  his  son-in-law  the  lord  Abergavenny,  and  the  Lord 
Montague,  were  apprehended  and  sent  to  the  same  place. 

The  Duke  was  committed  to  the  Tower  on  the  16th  of 
April.  The  indictment  was  laid  at  the  Guildhall,  before  Sir 
John  Brugge,  lord  mayor,  and  others,  on  Wednesday,  the  8th 
of  May.  On  the  10th  of  the  same  month  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
acting  as  lord  high  steward,  issued  his  warrant  for  the  attend- 
ance of  the  peers  at  Westminster  Hall  on  Monday,  the  13th. 
Among  the  peers  thus  summoned  for  the  Duke's  trial  were 
the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  the  Earls  of 
Shrewsbury,  Kent,  Derby,  Devonshire,  and  Worcester,  the 
Prior  of  St.  John's,  with  nine  other  barons,  including  William 
Blount,  Lord  Mountjoy,  the  celebrated  friend  and  patron  of 
Erasmus. 

The  axe  was  carried  before  the  Duke  as  he  was  brought 
to  the  bar,  between  Sir  Thomas  Lovel,  the  constable,  and  Sir 
Richard  Cholmeley,  deputy  lieutenant  of  the  Tower.  The 
indictment,  in  the  rambling,  legal  terminology  of  the  times, 
framed  like  the  Gospel-net  to  catch  all  chances  of  condemna- 
tion, good  or  bad,  substantial  or  otherwise,  extended  over  a 
period  of  ten  years,  from  1511  to  1520.     It  rested  exclusively 


1521.]  DEPOSITIONS   AGAINST   BUCKINGHAM.  389 

on  the  depositions  of  tlie  Duke's  servants,  Delaconrt,  Gilbert, 
and  Charles  Ivnyvet.  Their  evidence  related  chiefly  to  a 
correspondence  said  to  have  been  held  by  the  Duke  with 
Nicholas  Hopkyns,  a  pretender  to  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and 
seems  almost  too  absurd  or  too  exaggerated  to  be  credible. 
Hopkyns,  so  the  evidence  ran,  first  exacting  an  oath  of 
secrecy  from  Delacourt,  bade  him  inform  the  Duke  that  "  he 
should  have  all,"  and  encouraged  him  to  win  the  love  of  the 
commons.  On  being  questioned  how  he  knew  this,  Hopkyns 
replied,  "By  the  grace  of  God."  At  another  time  the  monk 
assured  the  Duke  that  the  King  should  have  no  male  issue — 
a  safe  prophecy  enough,  so  long  as  Katharine  remained  Queen. 
In  April,  1514,  according  to  the  same  witness,  the  Duke  went 
to  the  priory  at  Henton  and  was  assured  by  Hopkyns  he  should 
be  King  of  England;  to  which  assurance  the  Duke  repHed, 
that  in  such  a  case  he  would  act  like  a  just  prince.  In  con- 
firmation of  this  treasonable  correspondence,  it  was  alleged 
that  the  Duke  had  given  the  house  to  which  Hopkyns  be- 
longed an  annuity  of  61.  for  a  tun  of  wine,  and  20L  for  a  water 
conduit,  of  which  sum  he  then  and  there  had  traitorously 
paid  lOL 

In  Gilbert's  evidence  the  Duke  was  accused  of  purchasing 
cloths  of  gold  and  silver,  to  the  amount  of  300  marks,  for  the 
purpose  of  distributing  them  in  presents  to  the  King's  guards  ; 
of  endeavouring  to  obtain  a  Kcence  from  the  King  for  arming 
certain  of  his  subjects  in  Wales  ; — a  charge  not  unlikely  to  be 
true,  and,  considering  the  disorders  of  the  principality,  and 
the  Duke's  large  possessions  there,  not  necessarily  indicative 
of  any  felonious  intention. 

But  the  most  invidious  and  perilous  charge,  resting  wholly 
on  the  evidence  of  his  chancellor,  Gilbert,  has  yet  to  be  men- 
tioned. Gilbert  deposed  that  on  the  20th  of  February,  1520, 
the  Duke  told  him,  at  Bletchingley  in  Surrey,  that  he  would 
wait  for  a  more  convenient  season  to  execute  his  pm-pose ; 
and  that  it  would  be  well  if  the  lords  would  show  their  minds 
to  each  other,  but  they  were  afraid  to  do  so.  The  Duke  said 
also  that  all  that  Henry  VII.  had  done  was  done  wrongfully  ; 
and  as  for  himself  he  was  so  great  a  sinner  that  he  was  certain 
he  had  not  the  grace  of  God,  and  therefore  if  he  attempted 
anything  he  was  sure  of  being  punished. 

The  evidence  of  Charles  Knyvet,  his  surveyor,  whom  the 
Duke  had  deprived  of  his  offices,  was  of  a  fouler  and  blacker 
dye  than  that  of  the  rest.     It  will  be  remembered  that  in 


390  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

1519  the  King  had  heen  grievously  offended  with  Sir  William 
Bulmer  for  leaving  his  service,  and  entering  the  service  of 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  In  reference  to  this  event,  Knyvet 
deposed  that  the  Duke  had  said,  in  conversation  with  him, 
that  he  expected  nothing  less  at  that  time  than  to  have  been 
committed  to  the  Tower  ;  but  if  that  had  been  done,  the  prin- 
cipal actors — meaning  the  King  and  the  Cardinal — should 
have  had  but  little  joy ;  for  he  would  have  done  what  his 
father  intended  to  do  to  Richard  III.  at  Salisbury,  when  he 
made  suit  to  come  into  the  King's  presence ;  kneeling  before 
the  King,  he  would  have  started  up  suddenly,  and  stabbed 
him  on  the  spot.  In  saying  this,  continued  Knyvet,  he  laid 
his  hand  upon  his  dagger,  swearing  by  the  blood  of  the  Lord 
he  would  do  the  best  to  execute  his  purpose.  Shakespeare 
has  adhered  so  strictly  to  the  facts  connected  with  the  Duke's 
indictment  that  I  need  not  continue  these  remarks. 

The  depositions  against  him  contained  many  particulars 
which  it  was  not  deemed  prudent  to  bring  forward  at  the  trial. 
Some  of  them  are  apparently  so  immaterial  that  it  is  difficult 
to  discover  their  bearing  on  the  case.  Thus  it  is  deposed 
(evidently  by  his  chaplain  Delacourt)  that  on  the  26th  of 
October,  1520,  the  Duke,  in  the  presence  of  his  council,^  had 
said,  "  I  commanded  you  to  bring  your  books  with  you ; " 
and  on  their  affirming  they  had  done  so,  he  thus  proceeded  : 
"  I  intended  not  to  busj^  you  or  to  trouble  myself  with  any 
such  matter  at  this  time,  but  to  commune  with  you  and  show 
you  my  mind.  Ye  see  I  wear  a  beard,  whereof  peradventure 
ye  do  marvel.  But  marvel  not  of  it ;  for  I  make  a  vow  unto 
God  that  it  shaU  never  be  shaven  unto  such  time  as  I  have 
been  at  Jerusalem.  And  if  I  may  obtain  the  King's  licence 
to  perform  my  promise  and  vow,  it  were  more  to  my  comfort 
than  if  his  Grace  would  give  me  10,000Z. ;  yea,  more  glad 
than  if  his  Grace  would  give  10,000L  land  to  me  and  mine 
heirs."  That  there  was  no  great  wisdom  in  these  words  is 
apparent  enough  ;  but  what  treason  could  lurk  behind  them 
I  confess  I  am  unable  to  discover.  In  fact,  all  the  depositions 
against  the  Duke  show  him  to  have  been  rather  a  weak  than 
a  wicked  man ; — not  without  ambition,  not  without  hopes, 
perhaps,  of  succeeding  eventuallj-  to  the  crown ;  too  vacillating 
to  be  innocent,  too  weak  to  be  dangerous,  sinning  and  re- 
penting, "  letting  I  dare  not  wait  upon  I  would."  The 
King   might   very  well   have   pardoned    the    Duke,   without 

>  III.  p.  495. 


1521.]  DEPOSITIONS  AGAINST   BUCKINGHAM.  391 

fear   of  sparing  a  dangerous  rival  and  pretender,  had  that 
been  all. 

I  subjoin,  without  abridgment,  the  deposition  of  Robert 
Gilbert,  the  chancellor,  as  affording  the  clearest  exemplifica- 
tion of  the  animus  of  the  chief  parties  concerned  in  the  prose- 
cution, and  of  the  sort  of  legal  evidence  admitted  in  trials  for 
high  treason  during  the  reigns  of  the  Tudors. 

Confession  and  Deposition  of  the  Duke's  Chancellor.^ 

"First,  he  saith  he  heard  the  said  Duke  say  that  he  had  a  writing 
sealed  with  the  King's  broad  seal,  confessing  the  acts  of  parliament, 
wherein  it  was  enacted  that  the  duke  of  Somerset,  one  of  the  noble 
ancestors  of  our  sovereign  lord,  was  made  mulier,  or  legitimate,  and  that 
the  same  Duke  said  that  he  was  minded  to  have  given  the  same  writing 
to  our  sovereign  lord  the  King's  father,  and  he  said  he  would  not  he  had 
so  done  for  ten  thousand  pounds. 

"  Also  he  saith  that  he  heard  the  said  Duke  say  at  sundry  times  that 
my  lord  Cardinal  was  an  [ijdolator,  taking  counsel  of  a  spirit  how  he 
might  contin[ne  in  th]e  King's  favour,  and  that  he  was  the  King's  bawd, 
showing  him  w[hat  w]omen  were  most  wholesome,  and  best  of  complexion, 
for  his  Grace  to  use  ;  and  that  the  life  that  they  used  was  so  abominable 
that  God  would  punish  it,  and  that  it  could  not  continue  ;  and  that  my 
lord  Cardin[al]  is  so  sore  with  noble  men,  that  they  would  be  all  in  his 
top  if  the  King's  gx'ace  were  displeased  with  him,  and  that  he  would  undo 
all  noble  men  if  he  could. 

"  Also  he  saith  that  he  heard  the  said  Dvike  say,  that  he  had  done  as 
good  services  as  any  man,  and  was  never  rewarded  ;  and  that  the  King 
would  give  his  fees,  offices,  and  rewards  rather  to  boys  than  to  noble  men, 
which  was  small  comfort  to  them  to  do  his  Grace  services. 

' '  Also  he  saith  that  he  heard  the  said  Duke  say,  that  he  trusted  to  see 
the  time  that  Sir  William  Compton  should  be  glad  to  let  him  have  the 
land  again  that  he  had  sold  him. 

"Also  he  saith  that  the  said  Duke  hath  always  done  as  much  as  he 
could  to  have  favor  of  the  King's  guard,  and  hath  many  times  greatly 
rejoiced  in  it,  that  he  thought  himself  sure  of  them  ;  and  now  of  late  he 
hath  much  studied  to  make  many  particular  offices  in  his  lands,  to  the 
intent  that  he  might  retain  as  many  men  by  the  same  offices  that  he  could. 

"Also  the  said  Duke  would  at  many  times  cause  to  be  provided  for 
him  in  cloth  of  gold  and  other  silks  to  the  value  of  three  hundred  or  four 
hundred  marks,  and  would  give  it  all  within  a  quarter  of  a  year  to  gentle- 
men, to  get  their  love. 

"  Also  of  late,  when  the  said  Duke  had  given  a  doublet  of  cloth  of 
silver  to  Sir  Edward  Neyvell,  he  rejoiced  of  it,  and  said  to  my  lord  of 
Burgavenny  that  he  had  gotten  the  goodwill  of  his  brother  Sir  Edward 
Neyvell,  and  said  that  he  was  sure  that  my  lord  Burgavenny  could  not 
get  the  goodwill  of  Sir  Edward  Neyvell  from  him. 

"Also  he  heard  the  said  Duke  [gr]udge  and  be  discontented  many 
times  that  the  eaid  of  War[wick  Avas  put  t]o  deatli,  and  said  that  God 
would  punish  it,  and  that  [he  had  pu]nished  it  in  that  he  would  not 
suffer  the  King's  [grace's]  issue  to  prosper,  as  it  appeareth  by  the  [death 
o]f  his  son,  and  that  his  daughters  prosper  not,  and  that  tlie  King's  g[race 
ha]8  no  issue  male,  and  that  it  would  be  further  iiunish[ud  ;  and]  furthur 
the  said  Duke  said,  that  lie  would  suller  till  that  he  might  sue  a  more 
convenient  time,  and  that  it  would  do  well  enough  if  the  noblemen  durst 

'  Hurl.  MS.  283,  f.  70.— B.  M. 


o 


92  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 


break  their  minds  together,  but  some  of  them  mistrusteth,  and  feareth  to 
break  their  minds  to  other,  and  that  marreth  all  ;  so  that  there  is  no 
remedy  for  us  but  to  suffer  till  that  a  convenient  time  may  come,  for  there 
be  but  few  of  us  contented  in  our  minds  ;  we  be  so  sore  and  so  unkindly 
handled. 

"  Also  he  saith  that  if  the  said  Duke  might  have  had  convenient  time, 
and  have  been  strong  enough  to  have  made  his  party  good,  he  would  have 
done  as  much  against  the  King's  grace  as  he  could  have  done  ;  for  he 
liath  said  that  all  that  the  King's  father  did  was  wrong  and  naught,  and 
he  hath  at  all  times  grudged  against  every  thing  that  our  sovereign  Lord 
hath  done. 

' '  Also  the  said  Duke  said,  that  he  had  been  such  a  sinner  that  he  was 
sure  that  he  lacked  grace,  and  therefore  he  knew  well  that  he  should 
speed  the  worse  when  he  should  begin  to  do  anything  against  the  King  ; 
and  therefore  he  said  he  would  suffer  till  that  he  might  see  a  more 
convenient  time  for  it. " 

Tlie  depositions  of  the  witnesses  were  read  at  the  trial ; 
but,  if  we  may  draw  any  conclusion  from  the  silence  of  Hall, 
no  opportunity  was  afforded  the  Duke  of  confronting  and 
cross-examining  the  witnesses  in  person,  or  of  producing 
evidence  in  his  own  defence.  He  was  allowed  no  counsel; 
and  no  other  course  was  open  to  him  for  establishing  his 
innocence,  beyond  the  bare  denial  of  the  offences  charged 
against  him.  "When  the  indictment  was  openly  read," 
writes  Hall,  "the  Duke  said,  'It  is  false  and  untrue,  and 
conspired  and  forged  to  bring  me  to  my  death  ;  and  that  will 
I  prove,' — alleging  many  reasons  to  falsify  the  indictment. 
And  against  his  reasons  the  King's  attorney  alleged  the 
examinations,  confessions,  and  proofs  of  witnesses ; "  that  is, 
the  confessions  and  allegations  prepared  some  weeks  before, 
without  the  knowledge  of  the  Duke,  by  the  King  and  his 
ministers  at  Greenwich. 

"  The  Duke  desired  the  witnesses  to  be  brought  forth. 
Then  was  brought  before  him  Sir  Gilbert  Perke,  priest,  his 
chancellor,  first  accuser  of  the  same  Duke ;  Master  John 
Delacourt,  priest,  the  Duke's  confessor  ;  and  his  own  hand- 
writing [was]  laid  before  him,  to  the  accusement  of  the  Duke ; 
Charles  Knevet,  esquire,  cousin  to  the  Duke,  and  a  monk 
(Nicholas  Hopkyns),  Prior  of  the  Charterhouse  (at  Henton) 
besides  Bath,  which,  like  a  false  hypocrite,  had  induced  the 
Duke  to  the  treason,  and  had  divers  time  said  to  the  Duke 
that  he  should  be  king  of  England ;  but  the  Duke  said  that 
in  himself  he  never  consented  to  it."  The  depositions  were 
then  read,  and  the  witnesses  were  handed  over  to  the  custody 
of  the  officers  of  the  Tower.^ 

*  In   the    following   paper,    under       denied  the  charges   brought  against 
his  own  hand,  the  Duke  substantially       liim : — 


1521.] 


BUCKINGHAM'S   TRIAL. 


393 


"  Then  spake  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  and  said :  '  My  lord, 
the  King  our  sovereign  lord  Iiatli  commanded  that  you  shall 
have  his  laws  ministered  with  favor  and  right  to  you.  Where- 
fore if  you  have  any  other  thing  to  say  for  yourself,  you  shall 
be  heard.'  Then  he  was  commanded  to  withdraw  him,  and  so 
was  led  into  Paradise,  a  house  so  named." 

As  trials  for  treason  were  conducted  in  those  days,  it  was 
little  better  than  a  question  of  personal  credibility — assertion 
against  assertion  ;  and  very  few  reasonable  men  could  enter- 
tain doubts  as  to  the  issue.  The  King  had  already  pronounced 
judgment ;  he  had  examined  the  witnesses,  encouraged  and 
received  their  confidence,  and  expressed  his  belief  of  the 
Duke's  guilt.     Who  was  to  gainsay  it  ?     Who  should  be  bold 


"  Ans[wera  made  by  me  the  du]ke 
of  Biikingliam  beffore  Sir  Thomas 
Lovell,  knyght,  one  off  the  Kyiig's 
most  honorable  concell,  towchingsnch 
words  as  was  betwene  me  and  my 
gostly  fader,  callyd  th[e]  wycar 
generall  of  Henton. 

"  Fyrst,  I  seye  tha[t  in]  the  somer 
beffore  the  King's  grace  whent  to 
Calys,  he  sent  a  letter  off  hys  owne 
hand  unto  me,  and  desyryd  me  that  I 
wold  cum  over  to  speke  with  hym, 
for  he  had  dyveres  thyngs  to  shewe 
me,  whych  he  wold  schewe  no  body 
on  hys  good  wyll ;  but  iff  I  myght  not 
cum  he  wold  be  content  to  schewe  it 
to  one  off  my  chapeley[usj  sue  he  as  I 
wold  trust.  Wherupon  bycause  he 
had  bene  longe  my  goostly  ffader, 
thynking  that  he  coold  have  infformyd 
me  off  sum  wrongs  that  I  had  doon, 
or  elles  to  sum  materes  off  pyte,  I 
wrote  a  letter  to  hym  ageyne,  and 
schewed  hym  that  I  myght  not  cuna 
to  hym,  and  prayd  hym  to  wryte  it  to 
me,  or  elles  to  schewe  it  to  Mayster 
Dalacourt ;  whych  Mr.  Dalacourt  came 
to  me  ffrora  hym,  and  scyd  he  wold 
not  wryt,  but  the  nexst  tyme  that  I 
cum  to  hym  [he]  wold  schewe  it  me 
hymselff  ;  and  su[m  time]  followyng, 
whyche  [was  when  the  King  took  his] 
joruoy  in  warffar  into  France,  I  [con- 
fessed  to]  hym  ;  and  when  I  whas  in 
schryft  to  hym  [he  axed  me]  wheder 
I  schuld  goo  into  France  w[ith  the 
King]  ;  and  I  schewed  hym  ye ;  and 
he  sayd  [that  he  was  very]  glad 
theroff  ;  ffor  he  sayd  tlie  Kyng's  grace 
[would]  wyn  gret  honor  ther,  and 
that  whe  [should]  all  cum  home  save 
ageyne ;  bat  that  the  Scotts  schuld 
make   sum   troby[l].      And   then   ho 


sayd,  iff  the  kyng  off  Scotts  came 
[into  this  realm  he]  schuld  nott  goo 
home  ageyn  ;  and  I  [asked  him]  howe 
he  knewe  thys,  and  asyd  him  wheder 
he  had  knowledge  thereoff  [by] 
prophesye ;  and  he  seyd,  naye,  but 
said  to  [me]  iJx  [_I)eo  Jiabeo']. 

"  And  after  he  axyd  me  how  meny 
c[hildren]  the  Kyng  had  had,  and  I 
told  hym ;  and  [he]  sayd,  I  pray  God 
hys  issue  may  co[ntinue],  ffor  I  ffer 
gretly  God  ys  not  contentyd  [that] 
he  maky  t  h  not  resty  [tu]  cion  accordy  ng 
to  the  Kyng  [his  father's  will],  ffor 
he  herd  no  [man]  speyk  thereoff  ;  and 
[he]  charchyd  me,  upon  my  allegiance 
towards  hys  Grace,  to  adwyse  hys 
concell  tomake  restitution,  and  wheder 
he  schewde  part  off  thes  words  .  .  . 
can  not  perffyghtly  remember  .  .  . 
theym,  ffor  the  most  part  off  t 
and  Mayster  Dalacourt  alsoo  *  * 
— Cott.  App.  xlviii.  109.     B.M. 

The  substance  of  this  confession 
has  been  preserved  by  Lord  Herbert 
in  his  History  of  Henry  VIII. 
According  to  Herbert  the  Duke  is 
reported  to  have  said  that  he  repeated 
these  words  to  his  chancellor  Gilbert ; 
and  upon  his  return  from  France  he 
visited  Hopkins,  stating  that  he  had 
told  the  truth.  He  adds,  that  at 
another  time  the  Duke  visited  Hop- 
kyns,  with  his  son  Lord  Stafford  and 
the  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  and  that 
Hopkyns  then  said  that  some  of  his 
blood  should  hereafter  prove  great 
men.  After  this  ll()i)kyns  again  sent 
to  the  Duke  requesting  him  to  help 
their  house  at  Henton  in  making  their 
conduit,  according  to  his  promise,  for 
the  lOL  he  had  formerly  given  them 
was  all  spent. 


#>> 


394  THE    REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

enough  to  assert  that  the  King  had  arrived  at  a  false  con- 
clusion, and  that  such  methods  of  procedure  were  fatal  to 
justice  ?  In  a  court  also,  constituted  of  men  who  were  not 
lawyers  by  profession,  who  had  received  no  training  for  such 
nice  questions,  who  understood  nothing  of  the  salutary  laws 
of  legal  evidence,  what  hope  could  there  be  for  the  accused  ? 
How  could  he  expect  that  protection  which  not  only  innocence 
but  guilt  has  a  right  to  demand,  until  the  charge  be  fairly  and 
fully  proven  ?  The  only  lawyer  employed  was  the  attorney- 
general  in  behalf  of  the  Crown.  But  in  those  days  attorney- 
generals  regarded  themselves  as  the  servants  of  the  Crown, 
who  had  to  earn  their  wages  by  establishing  the  guilt  of  the 
prisoner. 

So  the  lords  retired,  and  upon  their  return  into  court  the 
sentence  of  each  peer  was  taken  one  by  one.  Then  said 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk  to  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  "  What  say 
you  of  Sir  Edward,  duke  of  Buckingham,  touching  these 
high  treasons  ?  "  "I  say  that  he  is  guilty,"  answered  the 
Duke,  laying  his  hand  upon  his  breast.  Every  peer  made 
the  same  response ;  and  against  each  of  the  names  entered 
on  the  panel — a  little  scrap  of  dirty  parchment,  still  pre- 
served at  the  Eecord  Office — there  is  to  be  seen  to  this 
day,  in  the  handwriting  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Dicit  quod 
est  culpahilis. 

Then  was  the  Duke  brought  to  the  bar  to  hear  his  sentence. 
For  a  few  moments  he  was  overpowered  by  his  emotions.  In 
the  extremity  of  his  agony,  he  chafed  and  sweat  vehemently. 
Recovering  himself,  after  a  while,  he  made  his  obeisance  to 
the  court.  After  a  short  pause,  a  deathlike  silence :  "  Sir 
Edward,"  said  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  "  you  have  heard  how 
you  be  indicted  of  high  treason ;  you  pleaded  thereto  not 
guilty,  putting  yourself  to  the  judgment  of  your  peers,  the 
which  have  found  you  guilty."  Then  bursting  into  a  torrent 
of  tears  (he  was  an  old  man,  who  had  faced  death  unmoved 
in  the  field  of  Flodden),  he  faltered  out,  "Your  sentence  is, 
that  you  be  led  back  to  prison ;  laid  on  a  hurdle,  and  so 
drawTi  to  the  place  of  execution ;  there  to  be  hanged,  cut  down 
alive,  your  members  to  be  cut  off  and  cast  into  the  fire,  your 
bowels  burnt  before  your  eyes,  your  head  smitten  off,  your 
body  quartered  and  divided  at  the  King's  will.  And  God  have 
mercy  on  your  soul !     Amen." 

The  Duke  heard  this  horrible  sentence  with  unusual 
dignity  and  composure.     Turning  to  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  he 


1521.]  EXECUTION   OF   BUCKINGHAM.  395 

quietly  replied,  "  You  have  said,  my  lord,  as  a  traitor  should 
be  said  unto  ;  but  I  was  never  none."  Then,  addressing  him- 
self to  the  coui't,  he  requested  that  those  present  would  pray 
for  him,  assuring  them  that  he  forgave  them  his  death,  and 
expressing  his  determination  not  to  sue  for  mercy. 

In  compliance  with  the  customs  of  the  time,  the  edge  of 
the  axe  was  tm'ned  towards  him,  as  he  was  led  out  of  the  hall 
by  the  constable  and  deputy  lieutenant  of  the  Tower.  At 
Westminster  stairs  he  took  water,  and  landing  at  the  Temple 
was  delivered  over  to  Sir  Nicholas  Vaux  and  Sir  "William 
Sandys,  by  whom  he  was  conducted  through  the  city  to  the 
Tower.     This  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

The  proceedings  for  his  trial  had  commenced  on  Monday, 
and  lasted  some  days.  Between  .the  short  interval  of  his 
sentence  and  execution,  constant  to  the  resolution  he  had 
expressed  of  not  suing  to  the  King  for  mercj^  the  Duke  pro- 
tested his  innocence  and  prepared  for  death.  On  the  following 
Friday  morning,  the  17th  of  May,  between  eleven  and  twelve 
o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  at  a  time  when  the  hills  of  Surrey 
were  clothed  in  their  freshest  verdure,  and  the  then  unoccupied 
banks  of  the  Thames  sloped  to  the  water's  edge  with  the 
tender  green  and  delicate  blossom  of  the  white  thorn,  the 
Duke's  favourite  flower,  the  sombre  procession  threaded  its 
way  through  the  dark  passages  of  the  Tower,  and  emerged 
upon  the  Green.  Among  the  sobs  and  tears  of  the  spectators, 
the  Duke,  led  by  the  two  sheriffs,  mounted  the  scaffold  with  a 
firm  and  composed  step.  Turning  himself  to  the  crowd,  he 
requested  all  men  to  pray  for  him,  "trusting,"  he  said,  "to 
die  the  King's  true  man ;  whom,  through  his  own  negligence 
and  lack  of  grace,  he  had  offended."  With  this  brief  request, 
he  kneeled  at  the  block.  There  was  a  sudden  glimmer  for  an 
instant  in  the  air,  then  a  dull  thud,  and  the  head  rolled 
heavily  from  the  body.  The  headsman  wiped  his  axe ;  the 
attendants  threw  a  cloth  over  the  headless  trunk,  to  conceal 
the  blood  which  streamed  in  torrents  over  the  scaffold,  and 
dripped  through  the  platform  on  the  grass  beneath.  In  rough 
frieze,  barefooted,  and  bareheaded,  six  poor  Augustinian  friars, 
shouldering  a  rude  coffin,  emerged  from  the  shuddering  and 
receding  crowd.  Gathering  up  the  remains  of  the  once  mighty 
Duke  of  Buckingham — for  the  King,  satisfied  with  his  con- 
demnation, had  commuted  the  last  extremities  of  the  sentence 
— they  carried  the  corpse  to  the  church  of  the  Austin  Friars.^ 

*  Memorandum  on  the  cover  of  Lambeth  MS.,  No.  316. 


o 


96  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VIIL  [A.D. 


The  Duke  in  his  hfetime  had  been  kind  to  poor  rehgious 
men,  and  this  was  the  last  and  only  office  they  could  render 
him. 

An  unwise  and  unguarded  man,  the  Duke  had  in  him  little 
of  that  metal  of  which  traitors  are  generally  made.    Capricious 
in  temper,  careless  of  tongue,  even  had  he  contrived  to  steer 
his  way  in  safety  to  less  dangerous  times,  he  would  never  have 
grasped   political   power   with   a   steady   hand.     Formidable 
from  his  wealth,  his  connections,  his  rank,   and  his  blood, 
formidable  fi-om  his  nearness  to  the  throne  and  the  barrenness 
of  Katharine,  it  behoved  him  to  have  been  either  more  than 
usually  courteous  or  more  than  usually  conciliating.     He  was 
too  proud  to  be  either.     He  despised  the  Cardinal,  and  was  at 
no  pains  to  conceal  it.    He  despised  the  King  for  being  guided 
by  the  Cardinal,  and  was  easily  goaded  on  by  treacherous 
friends    and   cunning   domestics   to   speak   dishonourably,  if 
not  treasonably,  of  his  sovereign.     If  he  had  committed  any- 
thing worthy  of  death,  if  he  had  conspired  against  the  life 
or  dignity  of  the   King,  of  which   I   can  find  no  trace,  no 
probability  even,  in  his  private  papers,  the  proofs  tendered  of 
his  guilt  at  his  trial  can  satisfy  no  one  at  this  day.     If  they 
are  inclusive  in  themselves,  they  appear  more  so  from  the 
fact  Miat  whilst  the  evidence  for  the  prosecution  had  been 
deliberately  framed  for  many  weeks,  the  unhappy  prisoner, 
kept   in   the   dark   as  to  the  precise  charges   to  be  brought 
against  him,  had  no  time  or  opportunity  to  prepare  for  his 
defence  until  the  day  of  his  trial ;  until  then,  when  the  indict- 
ment was  read  and  the  witnesses  produced,  he  had  no  know- 
ledge of  the  crimes  he  was  called  upon  to  answer.     But  the  ' 
people,  though  they  pitied  his  fall,  had  no  very  clear  notions 
of  the  reasons  for  his  condemnation  ;  unaccustomed  to  question 
the  judgment  of  their  superiors,  they  accepted  the  verdict  of 
his  peers  as  conclusive  against  him.     The  presumption  was 
stronger  than  the  proof.     It  was  enough  for  ordinary  thinkers 
that  the  Duke  was  a  proud  man;  he  was  certainly  a  wealthy 
man,  descended  from  a  stock  that  was  dangerous  to  royalty, 
and   apt   to   be   overbearing.      That   he   listened  readily  to 
prophecies,    at   a   time   when   prophecies  were  the  oracular 
expressions  of  discontent  and  instruments  of  mischief,  seemed 
enough  to  justify  the  impression  of  his  guilt.     So  he  fell,  not 
without  pity,  tears  alternating  with   the   sterner   conviction 
that  his  fate  was  unavoidable.     The  happiness  of  the  nation 
was  bound  up  in  its  King  ;   and  the  blood  of  the  noblest  was 


1521]  EXECUTION   OF  BUCKINGHAM.  397 

not  a  sacrifice  too  costly  to  expiate  the  least  taint  or  suspicion 
of  disloyalty. 

On  the  day  of  the  Duke's  execution  Wolsey  was  attending 
on  the  King  as  he  sate  in  his  chair  in  his  gallery  at  Greenwich. 
The  King  was  just  then  recovering  from  fever  and  ague,  under 
which  he  had  been  labouring  for  some  days,  when  the  Cardinal 
took  the  opportunity  of  urging  that  letters  of  "consolation 
and  credence  "  should  be  sent  to  the  widowed  Duchess  and 
her  son,  Lord  Stafford.-^  On  reminding  the  King  of  this 
request  a  second  time,  a  few  days  after,  Wolsey  added,  "If 
you  think  them  {sc.  these  letters  of  condolence)  not  convenient 
to  j)ass,  I  remit  that  to  you." 

Of  the  jury  who  had  concurred  in  the  condemnation  of  the 
Duke,  two-thirds,  perhaps,  participated  in  his  sentiments. 
The  exclusion  of  the  ancient  aristocracy  from  office,  in  con- 
formity with  the  Tudor  policy ;  their  hopelessness,  as  expressed 
by  the  Duke,  of  obtaining  any  just  recognition  of  their  services, 
however  great ;  ^  their  hereditary  hatred  of  an  ecclesiastic,  of 
low  birth,  like  Wolsey,  who  monopolized  the  King's  favour, 
and  excluded  them  from  their  due  share  of  influence  in  the 
State  ;  their  fixed  aversion  to  a  French  alliance  ; — all  combined 
to  spread  a  feeling  of  discontent  among  them,  which  might 
have  found  a  centre  in  the  Duke,  however  otherwise  unfitted 
by  genius  or  resolution  to  be  the  leader  of  a  great  conspiracy. 
Then,  again,  from  the  days  of  Kichard  III.  the  De  la  Poles 
had  never  wholly  abandoned  their  hopes  of  the  crown,  between 
which  and  themselves  there  stood  so  slight,  so  thin,  an 
obstacle,  hopes  nearly  realized  more  than  once.  Such  a 
conspiracy  would  have  been  mortal  to  the  Cardinal ;  dangerous 
at  least,  if  not  destructive,  to  the  royal  authority.  Men  who 
looked  not  deeply  into  the  character  of  Henry  VIII.  might 
easily  flatter  themselves  that  a  monarch  who  appeared  to 
surrender  his  judgment  exclusively  to  his  great  minister,  and 
spend  so  much  of  his  time  in  hunting,  amusements,  and 
devotion,  would  prove  no  great  obstacle  to  their  designs ; 
and  the  King,  surrounded  by  a  compact  and  narrow  band  of 
the  greatest  nobles,  would  have  been  reduced  to  a  cipher. 

So  the  execution  of  the  Duke  was  a  State  necessity,  in 
strict  accordance  with  Tudor  maxims.     It  crushed  entirely  all 

'  TII.  1292.  King  would  give  his  fees,  offices,  and 
^  "  He  heard  the  Dake  say  that  he  rewards  to  boys  rather  tlian  to  noble- 
had  done  as  f^ood  services  as  any  man,  men;     which    was    small    comfort   to 
and  was  never  rewarded,  and  that  the  them  to  do  his  Grace  service." 


398  THE    REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

danger  from  a  suspected  quarter.  The  nobility  were  more 
■humbled,  more  scared,  than  ever.  That  accomplished,  there 
was  no  reason  why  mercy  should  not  take  the  place  of  judg- 
ment ;  and  the  moderation  of  Wolsey  is  conspicuous  in  thus 
moving  the  King  to  write  these  letters  of  condolence. 

But  more  remained. 

It  was  not  possible  that  a  nobleman,  so  eminent  as  the 
Duke,  could  be  thus  taken  off  without  provoking  much  discus- 
sion  and  many   disagreeable   suspicions   in   every  court   in 
Europe.     It  was  not  politic  that  the  oft-repeated  boast  of  the 
King's  popularity  should  be  considered  as  devoid  of  foundation, 
or  that  it  should  be  said  that  the  greatest  of  his  nobility  were 
disaffected  to  his  government.    In  his  despatch  to  the  English 
ambassador  at  the  French  court, ^  the  Cardinal  enjoins  him  to 
thank  the  French  King  for  the  offers  he  had  made  to  defend 
the  King's  person,  when  he  first  heard  of  the  Duke's  attach- 
ment.    He  was  to  say  that  the  King  had  been  aware  for  some 
time  of  the  Duke's  disaffection ;   that  he  had  recently  been 
detected  in  treason  against  the  King's  person  and  succession, 
especially  against  the  Princess  Mary,  with  whose  alliance  in 
France  he  was  much  displeased ;  ^  that  these  things  being 
proved,  and  at  last  admitted  by  himself,  he  had  been  executed 
according  to  his  demerits.     As  no  trace  of  this  charge  is  to  be 
found  in  the  Duke's  indictment,  or  in  the  account  of  his  trial, 
it  must  be  considered  as  a  political  figment  invented  to  suit 
the  atmosphere  of  the  French  court,  and  justify,  on  motives 
fully  appreciated  by  the  French  King,  the  execution  of  the 
Duke.^     But  though  nothing  of  this  appeared  on  the  trial — 
and  there  were  excellent  reasons  why  it  should  not,  for  the 
Duke  would  certainly  have  been  regarded  as  a  political  martyr 
to   a  measure  in  the   highest  degree  unpopular — there    are 
indications  that,  in  common  with  Suffolk,  Abergavenny,  and 
the  people  in  general,  Buckingham  regarded  the  French  and 
this  marriage  alliance  with  aversion.     Fully  to  understand 
the  feelings  of  the  times,  we  must  take  into  account  the  long- 
standing rivalry  between  the  two  nations.     The  irrepressible 
jealousy  and  excessive  dislike  with  which  France,  its  ambition, 
its  habits,  its  fashions,  its  activity  under  all  forms,  were  then 

^  III.  1293.  for  opposing  the  Cardinal  in  promoting 

^  At  the  Calais  conference  in  the  the  alHance  of  France  and  England. 

following   August    Wolsey  positively  III.  1556. 

assured  the  French  minister,  Du  Prat,  ^  III.  1293. 

that  Buckingham  had  been  beheaded 


1521.]  WHAT   MEX   SAID   OF   IT.  399 

regarded  by  the  mass  of  the  English  people,  are  barely  in- 
telligible to  us  now,  to  whom  the  conquest  of  France  has 
ceased  to  be  more  than  a  dim  and  idle  tradition,  stirring  no 
blood,  awakening  no  memories  and  no  regrets.  But  in  tliose 
days  men  still  talked  over  by  the  fireside  the  deeds  of  their 
forefathers  in  the  fields  of  France ;  they  believed  as  fully  in 
the  right  and  title  of  their  kings  to  France  as  we  believe  in 
our  title  to  India  or  Ireland.  Henry's  only  surviving  child 
and  heir  was  the  Princess  Mary.  The  nation  had  ceased  to 
expect  any  other.  By  her  union  with  the  Dauphin  a  way 
was  opened  to  the  succession  of  a  French  prince  to  the  throne 
of  England.  Nothing  could  be  more  odious  to  the  people  than 
such  an  anticipation ;  and  there  was  no  policy  that  Bucking- 
ham could  have  adopted  which  would  have  secured  his  object 
with  greater  certainty,  had  he  been  really  desirous  of  the 
Cardinal's  overthrow,  than  to  have  declared  himself  an  enemy 
to  that  measm-e,  of  which  Wolsey  boasted  to  be  the  sole 
author.  With  a  little  more  cunning  and  self-control,  he  might 
at  this  critical  moment  have  filled  England  with  discontent 
from  one  end  to  the  other.  The  suspicions  of  the  King  and 
the  Cardinal  were  not  wholly  devoid  of  foundation.  They 
watched  the  actions  of  the  Duke  and  his  friends  with  con- 
siderable apprehension.^  Once  only  had  he  been  in  the 
company  of  Francis,  and  had  not  left  a  very  favourable 
impression.  Sir  Thomas  Cheyne  details  a  conversation  he 
had  with  Francis  I.  respecting  the  Duke  a  short  time  after.^ 
Francis,  he  says,  "  fell  on  devising  (talking)  of  the  duke  of 
Buckingham,  and  said  he  had  no  fancy  to  him,  and  said  he 
thought  he  should  come  to  that  he  is  now  come  to.  And  he 
reported  him  to  my  Lady  his  mother,  whether  he  said  so  or 
no  immediately  after  his  coming  from  Arde."  On  another 
occasion,^  Francis,  talking  on  the  same  subject  with  Fitz- 
william,  inquired  what  sort  of  a  man  the  Duke  was ;  Fitz- 
william  replied  that  "  he  was  a  high-minded  man,  and  one 
that  would  speak  sometimes  like  a  man  in  a  rage."  Francis 
said,  "  he  judged  him  for  such  a  man,  and  so  full  of  choler 
that  there  was  nothing  could  content  him."  The  ambassador 
rejoined  that  the  King  had  often  given  the  Duke  good  Ifessons  ; 
so  good  that,  if  he  had  had  any  grace,  he  would  never  have 
deserved  to  be  in  the  Tower  ;  and  he  added  that  the  Duke  had 

»   See    the    Kind's    extraordinary  ^  py^^  ^3^  1522. 

letter  to  thu  Cardiual,  111.  1,  and  the  *  111.  1245. 

note. 


400  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

often  received  warnings  as  well  from  Wolsey  as  from  •  his  own 
servants. 

The  Emperor — for  the  death  of  the  Duke  was  a  subject  of 
discussion  in  all  the  courts  of  Europe — never  very  demon- 
strative, expressed  his  regret  more  imperatorum.  There  had 
been  much  talk  in  his  court,  he  told  Wingfield,^  of  the  Duke's 
attainder,  and  it  was  not  easy  to  prevent  it ;  but  as  for  himself, 
he  knew  too  well  the  King's  great  virtue  and  wisdom  to  suppose 
he  would  have  had  the  Duke  executed  except  upon  great  and 
just  cause.  When  Wingiield  told  him  that  the  charges  were 
proved  against  the  Duke,  and  confessed  by  him  before  his 
death,  the  Emperor  observed  that  the  King  could  not  have 
done  otherwise  than  he  had  done.  Nevertheless,  he  said,  he 
was  sorry  the  Duke  should  have  come  to  such  an  end ;  for  he 
had  taken  him  for  a  friend,  supposing  he  had  been  a  friend  to 
the  King.  Such  conversations  as  these  must  not  be  accepted 
for  more  than  they  are  worth.  The  ambassador  received  his 
cue  from  the  minister ;  and  if  he  doubted  of  its  truthfulness, 
it  was  not  his  business  to  give  utterance  to  his  doubts,  much 
less  in  despatches  addressed  to  his  own  court  and  its  minister. 

But  far  away  from  the  metropolis  men  canvassed  in  less 
bated  terms  the  execution  of  the  Duke.  On  the  18th  of  June, 
1521,  an  information  was  laid  against  John  Stede,  of  Warham, 
Norfolk,  for  "  heinous  words  against  the  King's  grace."  ^  On 
the  Monday  in  Whitsun  week — so  runs  the  deposition  of  one 
witness — John  Fuller  or  Fowler  came  to  John  Stede  at 
Sydestern,  and  was  hired  into  his  service  in  Dovehouse  Close. 
Stede  asked  the  new-comer,  in  whose  service  he  had  been  ;  he 
replied,  in  the  Duke  of  Northumberland's.^  Then  said  Stede, 
"  I  am  sure  my  lord  and  yours  is  pensive  for  the  duke  of 
Buckingham."  To  which  Fowler  answered,  he  could  not  tell, 
for  it  was  not  known  there  upon  St.  George's  day,  and  he  had 
left  the  day  following.  Stede  rejoined  :  "  My  lord  would  be 
pensive  if  he  knew  as  much  as  I  do ;  for  I  heard  that  upon 
Monday  his  judgment  was  given  unto  him  before  my  lord  of 
Norfolk  and  other  lords  ;  and  then  the  said  Duke  sat  down 
upon  his  knee,  and  desired  the  Lords  that  they  should  desire 
the  King's  grace  to  be  good  and  gracious  unto  his  wife  and  to 
his  children ;  but  as  for  his  own  life  he  would  not  sue.  And 
furthermore  he  said,  '  An  he  had  not  offended  no  more  unto 
God  than  he  had  done  to  the  Crown  he  should  die  as  true 

^  III.  1328.  '  The  Duchess  of  Bnckingham  was 

*  III.  1356.  Northnmber laud's  daughter. 


15-21.]  DITISION   OP   THE   SPOILS.  401 

man  as  ever  was  in  the  world."  On  another  occasion,  Sir 
John  Estcott,  the  parish  priest,  and  Nicholas  Parker,  my  Lord 
Broke's  huntsman,  were  talking  together  on  the  16th  of  May 
in  Monkyn  Bucland,  about  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.^  Then 
said  Estcott,  it  was  a  pity  such  an  honourable  man  should 
order  himself  so  against  God  and  his  King,  And  Parker  said, 
"  in  counsel,"  that  the  Duke  seven  years  ago  had  made  Lord 
Broke  of  counsel  in  this  matter,  and  invited  him  to  join  his 
household. 

But  if  there  were  any  one  who  really  hoped  that  the  execu- 
tion of  Buckingham  would  occasion  discontent,  and  end  in  the 
overthrow  of  the  Cardinal,  they  were  doomed  to  disappoint- 
ment. The  nation  in  general  silentlj^  acquiesced  in  the  Duke's 
fall ;  none  cared  to  scrutinize  too  narrowly  the  evidence  on 
which  he  was  condemned,  or  the  constitution  and  procedure  of 
the  tribunal  before  which  he  had  been  tried.  The  King  was 
the  fountain  of  all  justice,  not  in  the  sense  of  a  dry  legal 
axiom,  which  as  no  one  disputes,  so  no  one  realizes,  but  in 
the  hearts  and  intimate  convictions  of  his  people.  And  if 
that  fountain  occasionally  in  turbulent  times  or  distressing 
emergencies  sent  forth  bitter  waters  as  well  as  sweet,  the 
nation  was  not  inclined,  on  that  account,  to  forego  their  belief 
in  the  justice  of  their  sovereigns,  or  question  the  benefit  of  a 
strong  and  resolute  rule.  To  those  who  looked  back  on  the 
horrors  and  disorders  of  the  civil  wars,  the  occasional  harsh- 
ness of  an  arbitrary  but  regular  government  seemed  a  happy 
exchange  for  the  licentiousness  and  cruelty  of  internecine 
strife. 

The  big  birds  of  prey  swooped  down  and  clamoured  round 
the  noble  quarry.  The  Duke  had  been  one  of  the  richest  men 
of  his  times.  His  manors,  castles,  parks,  stewardships  were 
scattered  over  eleven  of  the  best  counties  in  England.^  Wolsey 
excepted,  he  had  a  more  magnificent  taste  for  building  than 
any  of  his  contemporaries,  and  had  spared  no  expense  in 
decorating  his  mansion,  park,  and  gardens  at  Thornbury.  At 
the  time  of  his  death  he  was  engaged  in  erecting  a  castle 
"  with  curious  works  and  stately  lodgings."  On  the  east  of 
the  castle  was  "  a  goodly  garden  "  to  walk  in,  a  large  orchard 
with  many  alleys ;  and  in  different  parts  of  the  orchard,  "  on 
a  good  height,"  were  "  roosting-places  "  or  summer  houses, 

*  ITT.  1320.  Essex,  Bucks,  Bedfonlsliiro,  Kent,  and 

'  (S'c.  Hants,  Wilts,  Gloucestershire,        Surrey;     not    to    moutioii    liis    vast 

Northamptonshire,   Norfolk,    Suffolk,       possessions  in  Wales.     See  III.  128G. 

VOL.  I.  2   1) 


402  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [AD. 

embowered  with  white  thorn  and  hazel.  The  orchard  com- 
municated with  a  new  park,  containing  700  deer,  and  inclosed 
thirteen  fish-ponds,  fed  by  a  spring.  Crossing  the  road  was 
another  park  holding  300  deer ;  and  two  miles  from  the  castle 
a  third,  seven  miles  in  extent,  filled  with  500  fallow  and 
50  red  deer. 

Next  in  value  was  his  borough  of  Newport  in  Wales,  with 
its  haven  full  of  shipping,  and  a  proper  castle  with  three 
towers,  close  to  the  water's  edge  ;  "  the  middlest  tower  having 
a  vault  or  entry  to  receive  into  the  said  castle  a  good  vessel." 
Here  the  Duke  exercised  the  rights  of  a  suzerain,  imposing 
fines  and  imprisoning  offenders. 

Next  came  the  lordship  of  Tunbridge  in  Kent,  with  its 
castle  ;  "  as  strong  a  castle  as  few  be  in  England.  The  town 
of  Tunbridge  is  a  borough  large  and  well  inhabited  with  people, 
having  plenty  of  water  running  through  it  in  divers  places." 
Adjoining  it  was  a  park  of  oaks  and  beeches,  giving  pasture  to 
300  fallow  deer,  and  embracing  in  its  circuit  fifty-two  islands. 
There  was  also  his  manor  place  of  Bletchingley,  "properly  and 
newly  builded  ;  "  with  its  hall,  chapel,  chambers,  parlours, 
closets,  and  oratories  newly  ceiled,  its  wainscoted  roofs,  floors, 
and  walls,  "  to  the  intent  they  may  be  used  at  pleasure  without 
hangings." 

Then  the  town  of  Brecknock,  "  a  very  proper  walled  town, 
well  builded,  and  as  well  paved,  with  many  honest  inhabitants 
in  the  same,  enclosed  on  the  west  side  thereof  with  the  castle, 
which  is  a  good  and  a  strong  hold,  with  all  houses  of  offices 
and  lodgings  builded  after  the  old  fashion."  The  castle  had 
a  hall,  the  roof  of  which  "  was  newly  and  costly  made  with 
pendants  after  a  goodly  fashion,  and  into  the  said  castle  water 
was  conveyed  by  a  conduit."  Adjoining  it  was  a  forest  and 
a  great  mere,  "  in  length  nigh  three  miles  and  in  breadth 
a  mile,  well  replenished  with  fish,  and  specially  with 
breams." 

Kimbolton  Castle,  in  Huntingdonshire,  another  of  his 
possessions,  is  described  as  being  "  within  a  moat,  well  and 
compendiously  trussed  together  in  due  and  convenient  propor- 
tion." Within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  it  was  Stonely  priory,  a 
park,  and  a  fox  hunt.  Then  the  manor  of  Writtell,  in  Essex, 
partly  decayed,  but  substantially  built,  "  all  of  gross  timber, 
in  a  quadrant  with  a  cloister."  The  commissioners  report 
that  this  might  be  made  with  no  great  charge  a  convenient 
house  for  the  King,  "  when  by  any  occasion  his  Grace  should 


1521.]  DIVISION   OF   THE    SPOILS.  403 

be  minded  to  remove  from  Newhall,  or  for  bunting-time  in 
summer." 

Masstock  Castle,  in  Warwicksbire,  anotber  portion  of  bis 
estates,  is  described  as  "  a  rigbt  j^roper  tbing  after  tbe  old 
building ;  standing  witbin  a  fair  and  large  moat  full  of  iisb, 
being  builded  four-square,  and  at  every  corner  is  a  tower 
covered  witb  lead,  wberein  be  proper  lodgings."  Besides  its 
spacious  ball,  cbapel,  and  cbambers,  tbe  apartments  in  tbis 
castle  "bad  cbimneys  and  draugbts."  "  Mucb  of  tbe  work," 
it  is  added,  "  was  done  by  my  Lady's  grace  tbe  King's  grand- 
dame,  and  wanted  finisliing  in  sundry  wise  ;  "  but  it  would,  at 
an  outlay  of  lOOZ.,  make  a  suitable  castle  for  tbe  King  and 
Queen  in  tbe  time  of  tbeir  progress. 

Tbe  town  of  Stafford  is  returned  as  "  a  proper  and  a  fair 
town,  wbicb  continually  aforetime  batb  been  tbe  King's  town, 
albeit  tbe  benefices  in  tbe  same,  and  lands  lying  about  it, 
were  tbe  late  duke  of  Buckingbam's."  Tbe  castle  stood  in  a 
park  a  mile  from  tbe  town,  "  upon  so  goodly  an  beigbt  tbat 
all  tbe  country  migbt  be  seen  twenty  or  tbirty  miles  about ; 
and  one  way  a  man  may  see  to  tbe  King's  lordsbip  of  Caurs 
in  Wales,  tbirty  miles  from  tbence,  and  anotber  way  to  tbe 
Iving's  bonor  of  Tutbury."  Six  of  tbe  little  cbambers  in  tbe 
castle  bad  "  draugbts  and  cbimneys."  As  it  was  only  fifteen 
miles  from  Tutbury,  and  tbirteen  or  fourteen  from  Licbfield, 
it  is  suggested  tbat  it  would  be  "rigbt  pleasant  for  tbe  King, 
wben  making  bis  progress  in  grease  time."  ^ 

Otber  lordsbips  are  enumerated  and  described,  but  tbose 
already  mentioned  will  be  enougb  to  give  my  readers  some 
notion  of  tbe  wealth  and  magnificence  of  tbe  great  Duke. 
Tbe  total  annual  rental  derived  from  bis  possessions  in  Eng- 
land and  Wales  was  estimated  at  6,0451.  7s.  l^d.,  or  about 
twelve  times  tbat  amount  according  to  our  modern  com- 
putation.^ 

Here  were  noble  spoils  ;  for,  witbout  detracting  mucb  from 
tbe  general  value  of  tbe  confiscation,  tbere  were  minor  estates, 
manors,  offices,  stewardsbips,  cbapelries  to  be  distributed 
among  tbose  who  bad  boldness  enougb  to  ask  and  favour 
enougb  to  obtain  them.  Among  tbe  sharers  of  tbe  spoil  we 
find  two  of  the  Duke's  judges,  the  Dukes  of  Norfolk  and 
Suffolk,^  Sir  Nicholas  Carew,^  Sir  William  Fitzwilliam,-'"'  Sir 

'  III.  128G.  ♦  III.  239G. 

»  IIJ.  1288.  '  III.  21G7. 

'  III.  2382,  31G2. 


404  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY    YIII.  [A.D.  1521. 

Griffith  Don/  Henry  Norris,^  and  the  two  Wingfields.^  In 
this  distribution  there  might  be,  there  probably  was,  nothing 
culpable ;  but  we  have  reason  to  be  thankful  that  such  usages 
exist  no  longer. 

^  III.  2587.  *  III.  2659.        '  III.  2043,  2682. 


(     ^05     ) 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    CALAIS    CONFERENCE. 

j\Iean"^hile  the  relations  between  Francis  and  the  Emperor 
were  exevj  day  becoming  less  satisfactory.  The  rebellion  of 
the  Emperor's  subjects  in  Spain,  his  absence  at  Worms,  his 
incessant  occupation  with  the  cares  of  his  new  empire,  seemed 
to  offer  an  excellent  opportunity  to  the  French  King  for  prose- 
cuting his  own  designs,  and  invading  the  imperial  dominions. 
But  Charles  had  given  no  cause  for  hostility,  and  he  was  well 
aware  that,  in  case  of  a  rupture,  the  assistance  of  England 
would  be  required  against  the  aggressor.  To  furnish  the 
Emperor  with  no  pretext  for  invoking  that  assistance ;  to 
secm-e  it,  if  possible,  for  himself,  by  inducing  Charles  to  strike 
the  first  blow; — this  was  the  main  object  of  his  policy.  To 
avoid  a  contingency  he  clearly  foresaw  must  happen  sooner  or 
later,  Francis  hurried  on  his  preparations. 

To  keep  England  in  good  humour,  to  hide  from  an  ally 
with  whom  he  professed  to  be  on  amicable  terms  so  much  of 
his  design  as  it  did  not  suit  his  purpose  to  reveal,  required  no 
little  tact  and  dexterity.  In  the  unsatisfactory  state  of  his 
relations  with  other  European  powers,  as  they  were  jealous 
and  suspicious  of  his  movements,  he  could  not  afford  to  throw 
away  the  amity  of  England.  He  was  conscious  that  the  Pope 
hated  and  feared  him,  and  was  straining  every  nerve  to  unite 
Italy  and  the  empire  against  him.  The  Emperor's  hostility, 
he  was  aware,  was  no  less  personal  than  political.  Therefore, 
his  safety  and  his  ambition  alike  demanded  that  Francis 
should,  if  possible,  prevent  those  combinations  of  his  enemies 
to  which  they  were  prompted  by  their  fears,  their  jealousies 
or  their  interests.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  equally  the 
policy  of  Wolsey  and  the  Pope,  though  for  different  reasons, 
to  keep  Francis  and  the  Emperor  employed  by  fomenting 
divisions  between  them.  The  Pope  could  only  hope  to  secure 
his  independence  by  their  mutual  antagonism.     For  if  two 


406  THE  EEIGN  OP  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

such  champions  of  the  Church  and  irresponsible  dictators  of 
Christendom  were  once  united,  they  would  control  the  Papacy, 
and  distribute  the  thunders  of  the  Vatican  at  their  pleasure. 
Weak  enough  alread}^  the  Pope  would  then  have  become 
a  weaker  and  more  submissive  vassal ;  a  mere  instrument  to 
do  their  bidding.  Now,  if  Charles  or  his  ambassadors 
attempted  to  coerce  his  Holiness — as  they  were  not  disinclined 
to  do  whenever  they  found  him  less  compliant  than  they 
wished — if  they  quartered  Spanish  and  Sicilian  troops  on  the 
Neapolitan  frontier,  or  afforded  convenient  relief  and  refuge 
to  the  Pope's  enemies  and  evil-doers,  his  Holiness  had  the 
means  of  bringing  them  to  reason  by  lending  a  ready  ear  to 
the  French  overtures.  If  Francis,  in  his  turn,  sent  troops 
to  the  Duke  of  Ferrara,  or  aided  in  spoiling  the  Church's 
patrimony — an  easy  method  of  making  the  Pope  feel  the 
weight  of  his  resentment,  without  the  least  diminution  of 
outward  respect — the  Pope,  by  promoting  the  designs  and 
interests  of  the  Spaniards,  could  as  easily  retaliate,  without 
appearing  to  violate  the  decencies  of  friendship.  In  fact,  had 
an  intimate  union  and  alliance  sprung  up  between  Charles 
and  Francis,  that  consummation  for  which  many  Protestants 
have  panted  might  have  taken  place  three  centuries  ago.  The 
temporal  power  as  well  as  the  spiritual  independence  of  the 
Pope  would  have  ceased  to  exist.  At  the  same  time  there 
would  have  been  no  Protestant  living  to  rejoice  over  its 
destruction.  For  the  same  combination  which  triumphed 
over  the  Papacy  would  have  stamped  out  every  spark  of 
religious  freedom.  Liberty  of  conscience  and  national  inde- 
pendence, weak  in  their  beginnings,  cradled  so  often  in  the 
shock  and  mutual  antagonism  of  the  great,  would  have  been 
successfully  coerced,  and  Luther  and  his  followers  have 
experienced  the  fate  of  Huss.^  Whether  Wolsey's  thoughts 
ever  travelled  beyond  the  more  narrow  and  immediate  objects 
of  his  policy  to  the  general  safety  and  welfare  of  Christendom, 
may  be  questioned,  but  that  both  depended  on  the  measures 
he  unremittingly  pursued  admits  of  no  dispute.  To  balance 
the  two  great  continental  powers  against  each  other,  to  prevent 
their  dangerous  conjunction,  to  trim  and  adjust  the  scale  when 
the  one  or  the  other  predominated,  was  necessary  for  the 
security  and  aggrandizement  of  England ;  but  it  was  no  less 

'  Some  writers  have  supposed  that  be  any  such  now,  I  beg  to  refer  them 
Charles  had  a  secret  inclination  to  to  his  own  letter  on  this  subject  iu 
Luther   and  his  doctrines.     If  there       the  Calendar.     III.  1237. 


1521.] 


FRANCIS   PREPARES   FOR   WAR. 


407 


necessary  for  the  general  interests  of  Christendom,  and  of 
every  individual  state  of  which  Christendom  was  then 
comjjosed. 

If,  then,  it  was  the  policy  of  the  French  King  to  keep  his 
rivals  asunder,  it  was  no  less  the  policy  of  Wolsey  to  prevent 
the  union  of  Charles  and  Francis ;  a  union  neither  distant  nor 
improbable,  considering  the  inability  of  the  former,  in  his 
present  perplexities,  to  cope  with  the  French  monarch.  But 
the  task  which  Francis  now  proposed  to  himself  was  not  easy. 
Already,  with  his  connivance,  Henry  d'Albret  had  seized  the 
opportunity  of  repossessing  himself  of  Navarre,  and  found  his 
progress  unopposed,  in  consequence  of  the  dissensions  among 
the  Castilians.  At  the  same  moment  Eobert  de  la  Mark, 
Lord  of  Bouillon,  on  the  frontiers  of  Luxembourg  and  Cham- 
pagne, took  the  field  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  adventurers,  led 
bj^  French  officers  with  the  French  King's  connivance,  if  not 
with  his  positive  sanction.  In  Dauphine  the  famous  Bayard 
was  busily  employed  in  collecting  troops.  French  dockyards 
swarmed  with  carpenters  ;  great  galleons  and  floating  batteries 
towered  up  in  imjDOsing  magnitude  and  number  to  threaten 
and  annoy  the  enemy's  country.^  Yet  all  the  while  Francis 
professed  the  most  pacific  intentions,  and.  deprecated  the 
suspicion  of  any  sinister  motives  in  himself  or  in  those  who 
were  thus  actively  engaged.  It  was  impossible  for  the  English 
court  to  shut  its  eyes  to  these  facts  or  their  consequences. 
Taxed  with  the  expedition  of  the  King  of  Navarre,  Francis 
replied  that  D'Albret  was  only  setting  out  to  visit  his  grand- 
father;  as  for  Piobert  de  la  Mark,  he  had  never  "aided  him 
with  a  penny,"  and  entirely  disapproved  of  his  proceedings  ; 
whilst  his  own  preparations  for  Italy  were  only  prompted  by 
the  wish  he  had  long  entertained  to  see  his  Duchy  of  Milan, 
and  to  show  himself  to  his  subjects  there."  Howbeit,  he  said 
he  would  make  no  great  haste  thitherwards  for  the  present. 

These  specious  excuses  were  accompanied  with  j)rofessions 


'  Francis  informed  Fitzwilliam,  in 
March,  that  he  had  a  ship  to  be  ready 
at  Midsummer,  somewhat  larger  than 
The  Great  Harry,  also  the  great  ship 
of  Scotland,  and  IG  sail  bcside,the 
Bmallest  above  350  tons.  He  has, 
says  Fitzwilliam, "  three  great  galleons 
that  I  never  heard  of  such,  for  they 
draw  so  little  water  that  he  will  bring 
them  so  near  shore  tliat  he  may  land 
out  of  thera,  witiiout  a  boat,  500  foot, 
men  and  horsemen."     This  feat 


was  to  be  accomplished  by  means  of 
a  bridge,  "  that  shall  be  ever  carried 
with  them."  Fitzwilliam  adds,  that 
Francis  had  also  a  design  of  construct- 
ing galleons  with  low  decks  like  float- 
ing batteries.  (III.  1198.)  "  I  think 
he  sjjoke  to  me,"  says  Fitzwilliam, 
"  as  Vice-Admiral,  and  asked  me  how 
I  liked  them ;  and  1  praised  them 
enough."  The  incredulous  English- 
man! 


408  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENKY  VIII.  [A.D. 

of  unalterable  respect  and  affection  for  England.  He  listened 
to  Henry's  ambassadors  "  marvellous  amiably."  If  their 
master  wished  for  another  interview,  he  assured  them,  though 
he  were  in  Italy,  "  he  would  gladly  ride  in  post  "  to  any  place 
where  Henry  would  appoint  a  meeting.^  His  respect  for  my 
Lord  Cardinal  was  only  second  to  that  which  he  entertained 
for  his  master.  The  French  agents  at  Eome  had  contrived  to 
possess  themselves  of  a  most  important  secret.  Don  Manuel, 
the  imperial  ambassador,  a  blustering  and  pompous  Spaniard, 
had  dropped  certain  hints  of  a  matrimonial  aUiance  between 
the  Emperor  and  a  Portuguese  princess  ;  boasting  that  his 
master  might  have  secured,  if  he  pleased,  the  hand  of  the 
Princess  Mary.^  A  report  so  derogatory  to  England,  so  well 
calculated  to  produce  a  rupture  between  Henry  and  Charles, 
was  duly  conveyed  to  the  French  King.  With  many  emphatic 
denunciations  of  the  calumny,  so  insulting  to  his  ally,  with 
many  protestations  that  he  did  not  believe  it,  Francis  trans- 
mitted the  report  to  England.  It  was  received  by  Henry  with 
no  small  vexation  and  chagrin ;  the  more  so,  because  it  was 
well-founded.  Digesting  his  vexation  with  a  gracious  counte- 
nance, Henry  thanked  his  candid  ally  for  his  "  manifold 
demonstrations  of  friendly  kindness,"  and  assured  him  of  the 
continuance  of  their  friendship.  "  Such  sinister  reports,"  he 
added,  "  as  those  of  Don  Manuel  were  only  contrived  by  their 
enemies  to  break  their  friendship,  and  sow  dissension  between 
them.  The  King  was  certainly  surprised  to  hear  that  the 
Emperor  was  suing  for  a  dispensation  to  marry  the  daughter 
of  Portugal ;  but  as  for  the  other  part  of  the  story,  there  was 
no  truth  in  it.  True  the  King  of  the  Eomans  had  made  over- 
tures, both  at  Calais  and  since,  to  marry  Madam,  the  Princess 
Mary ;  but  the  King,  in  consequence  of  his  engagements  with 
France,  had  peremptorily  declined  the  offer."  ^ 

This  assertion,  as  bold  as  it  was  untrue,  deceived  no  one. 
So  far  from  rejecting  the  Emperor's  proposals,  Henry  had 
been  negociating  with  him  for  many  months  the  terms  of  a 
matrimonial  aUiance,  and  of  this  the  French  King  was  well 
aware.  But  he  thought  it  best  to  dissemble ;  and  he  answered, 
with  great  generosity,  that  the  King  needed  not  have  troubled 
himself  with  disproving  the  calumny,  as  he  gave  it  no 
credence.*  It  was,  he  said,  undoubtedly  true  that  the 
Emperor  was  seeking  a  dispensation  at  Piome  to  marry  the 

*  III.  1157,  cf.  1202.  »  Condensed. 

*  III.  1258,  1283.  *   III.  1303. 


1521.]  riTZWILLIA:\I   AT   THE   FRENCH   COURT.  409 

Iving  of  Portugal's  daughter,  but  as  to  the  report  that  he  might 
have  had  my  lady  Princess,  that,  he  assured  the  King,  he 
never  could  believe  ;  adding,  with  his  usual  gallantry,  "  I  had 
liever  have  my  lady  Princess  and  (even)  though  the  King's 
grace  had  ten  children,  than  the  King  of  Portingale's  daughter, 
with  all  her  father's  spices." 

Such  a  reply  was  as  provokingly  polite  as  it  was  unsatis- 
factory. It  left  Francis  master  of  the  field,  and  sole  depository 
of  his  own  intentions.  Some  new  method,  as  Wolsey  discerned 
at  once,  must  be  adopted  ;  and  he  was  not  slow  in  acting  on 
his  discernment.  With  a  rashness  which  would  have  appeared 
uu2)ardonable  in  less  able  politicians,  he  called  home  from  the 
French  court  the  old  and  experienced  diplomatists  Sir  Eichard 
Jerningham  and  Sir  Eichard  Wingfield,  supplying  their  places 
with  a  3'Oung  man  who  had  never  yet  been  engaged  in  any 
public  employment — Sir  William  Fitzwilliam.  From  the 
time  when  Fitzwilliam  was  not  more  than  ten  years  of  age 
he  had  been  brought  up  with  the  King,  and  was  perfectly 
familiar  with  his  personal  habits,  his  likings  and  dislikings. 
He  shared  in  the  King's  love  of  sportsmanship ;  was  an  adept 
in  the  craft  of  venery  ;  knew  that  and  nautical  matters  better 
than  anything  else.  With  Latin,  strange  to  say,  he  was 
wholly  unacquainted  ;  and  though  he  spoke  French  fluently, 
5'et  with  French  spelling  and  French  proper  names,  as  will  be 
seen  from  his  letters,  he  makes  sad  havoc.  Keen,  intrepid, 
sagacious,  he  possessed  for  a  courtier  the  rare  and  invaluable 
gift  of  neither  seeing  nor  talking  too  much ;  he  was  diligent 
and  straightforward  in  business  ;  had  a  firmness  and  presence 
of  mind  which  never  forsook  him  in  the  most  trying 
emergencies.  Proof  against  menaces,  which  in  a  French 
court  he  had  not  much  reason  to  apprehend,  he  was  equally 
impenetrable  to  the  more  common  and  insidious  approaches 
of  finesse  and  flattery. 

He  was  cordially  welcomed  by  the  French  King,  who  was 
quite  at  his  ease,  and  somewhat  off  his  guard,  in  the  presence 
of  an  ambassador  who,  to  all  appearance,  was  "  neither  too 
deep  nor  too  sufficient."  He  talked  with  Fitzwilliam  about 
hunting ;  ^  promised  he  should  lodge  and  hunt  with  him  every 
day;  "opposed  (posed)  him  upon  the  sight  of  the  view,  and 
also  upon  all  other  properties  how  to  know  an  hart;"  dis- 
cussed with  him  the  propriety  of  his  master  having  a  park  for 
wild  swine  "  half  a  mile  or  a  quarter  in  the  thickest  ground  ho 

'  III.  IIGI,  1202. 


410  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

could  find."^  It  might  have  been  imagined — it  probably 
was  imagined — by  the  sharpest  and  subtlest  of  the  French 
ministers,  that  they  had  to  deal  with  a  raw  inexperienced 
youth,  who  was  much  better  versed  in  the  craft  of  a  sportsman 
than  the  affairs  of  kings,  popes,  or  emperors. 

Meanwhile,  with  his  keen  and  vigilant  eyes  Fitzwilliam 
took  diligent  notice  of  all  that  was  going  on.  Albany,  or  De  la 
Mark,  or  his  son  Fleuranges,  could  have  no  interview  with  the 
French  Iving  without  his  perceiving  it  and  guessing  the  drift 
of  it.  When  the  designs  of  Francis  were  too  ripe  or  too 
momentous  for  his  ministers  to  be  communicative,  Fitzwilliam 
in  the  equalizing  usages  and  momentary  unguardedness  of  the 
field,  managed  to  pick  up  useful  scraps  of  intelligence  her- 
metically sealed  from  the  staid  and  steady  diplomatist  in  the 
saloon  or  the  ante-chamber.  "Very  glad  am  I  to  see  the 
towardness  of  this  young  man,"  writes  Wolsey  to  the  King, 
"  which  (who),  in  mine  opinion  and  poor  judgment,  falleth 
right  well  to  the  matter,  and  indites  his  letters  to  good 
purpose."^  His  despatches  justify  the  Cardinal's  com- 
mendation. 

There  could  be  no  fitter  instrument  for  Wolsey's  purposes. 
Without  appearing  to  pry  into  the  motives  and  actions  of  the 
French  King,  without  ever  travelling  beyond  the  role  of  mere 
intelligencer,  Fitzwilliam  disarmed  suspicion.  He  never 
alarmed  the  jealousy  of  Francis,  never  flinched  before  the 
curious  searching  eyes  and  more  searching  tongue  of  his 
mother  Louise.  It  was  important  above  all  things  to  keep  the 
French  monarch  in  good  humour.  The  least  surmise  on  his 
part,  of  Wolsey's  and  his  master's  intentions,  would  have 
snapped  short  all  amicable  relations  between  the  two  courts  ; 
and  matters  with  the  Emperor  were  not  yet  on  so  satisfactory 
a  footing  that  England  could  afford  to  break  with  one  until 
she  had  secured  the  other.  Cold,  distant,  and  exacting,  the 
pride  and  the  avarice,  or,  if  that  word  be  too  strong,  the 
necessities  of  Charles,  revolted  from  the  conditions  attached  to 
the  hand  of  Mary.  Who  could  tell  whether,  with  all  his 
personal  antipathy  to  his  brilliant  French  rival,  he  would  not 
yet  digest  his  spleen,  and  content  himself  with  a  French 
bride,  if  the  King  of  France,  like  the  King  of  Portugal,  would 
promise  a  million  for  a  dowry  ?  At  all  events,  such  a  con- 
tingency was  not  to  be  hazarded  by  a  prudent  statesman; 

'  III.  1176. 

*  III.  1192.     Compare  also  Wolsey's  letter  to  Fitzwilliam  :  No.  1191. 


1521.]  FITZWILLIAM   AT   THE   FRENCH   COURT.  411 

and  therefore  Fitzwilliam  was  instructed  to  continue  his 
discreet  manner,  using  always  the  most  pleasant  words  to  the 
French  King  in  declaration  of  Henry's  fraternal  love.^  He 
was  to  assure  Francis  that  his  master  loved  him  "above  all 
other  princes,  most  esteeming  his  amity  and  constant  deal- 
ing;" that  he  could  take  no  rest,  "nor  be  contented  in  his 
mind,  till  he  should  eftsoons  attain  the  sight  of  his  person  by 
a  new,  secret,  loving,  and  familiar  interview."^ 

How  well  Fitzwilliam  carried  out  his  instructions  may  be 
judged  by  the  repeated  assurances  of  Francis  that  he  fully 
reciprocated  these  tokens  of  affection :  "A  foy  day  gentel- 
hommes,"  so  Fitzwilliam  reports  his  conversation,  "  there 
was  no  man  living  he  loved  better "  than  his  brother  of 
England.  "And  if,"  said  Francis,  "I  should  not  rejoice  of 
this  amity  that  I  have  with  my  brother,  I  know  not  whereof  I 
should  rejoice,  for  I  cannot  be  allied  to  [so  noble]  a  man  in 
this  world  ;  for  there  is  no  king  [to  be  compared]  to  him  ;  for 
they  be  childer  or  men  that  be  not  worthy  to  be  esteemed  like 
him.  He  is  worthy  to  be  a  king  alonely  but  for  his  just 
dealing  and  his  virtue.  Let  him  but  send  me  word  to  meet 
him  at  Calais,  and  I  assure  you,  in  what  place  soever  I  be,  I 
shall  come  to  him  in  post."  No  eulogist  of  Henry  could 
desire  more. 

But  if  soberer  judgments  demand  less  questionable  proofs 
of  the  ability  of  Fitzwilliam  and  the  accommodating  disposi- 
tion of  the  French  King,  here  is  one  that  cannot  be  disputed. 
In  the  near  and  almost  certain  prospect  of  a  continental 
embroilment,  with  a  powerful  enemy  across  the  sea,  a  cold 
and  hesitating  ally  in  the  Emperor,  the  King  of  England  was 
naturally  reluctant  to  waste  blood  and  treasure  in  a  war  with 
Scotland.  Ireland  at  the  same  time  was  causing  him  some 
alarm  ;  an  importunate  creditor  put  off  again  and  again  until 
a  more  convenient  season,  but  ever  more  importunate,  exact- 
ing, and  intolerant  of  delay.  Mindful,  therefore,  of  the  old 
adage,  "  If  that  you  will  France  win,  then  with  Scotland  first 
begin,"  Henry  was  anxious  that  the  "  weazel  Scot  "  should 
for  the  present  fold  its  claws,  and  keep  peaceably  within  its 
lair.  But  how  was  this  to  be  accomplished  ?  The  armistice 
with  Scotland  was  fast  expiring ;  Albany  was  watching  for  his 
opportunity  to  slip  over  unnoticed  from  the  French  court,  and 
aid  and  countenance  the  faction  incessantly  opposed  to  Eng- 
land. French  gentlemen,  ostensibly  with  the  most  peaceable 
'  III.  1212.  ^  111.  1191. 


412  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENKY  VIII.  [A.D. 

designs,  passed  and  repassed  the  sea^  between  France  and 
Scotland,  and  an  outbreak  appeared  unavoidable.  To  punish 
the  temerit}^  of  the  Scots,  to  engage  in  a  tedious  border  war, 
was  a  hindrance  at  best, — might,  if  not  ably  and  expeditiously 
concluded,  be  taken  by  foreign  nations  for  a  proof  of  weakness. 
To  betray  an  inclination  for  peace,  still  more  to  sue  for  it  or 
grant  it  'too  readily,  would  be  dishonour  worse  than  weakness. 
What  then  was  to  be  done  ?  Francis  was  to  be  persuaded  to 
induce  the  Scotch,  as  of  himself,  to  sue  for  peace ;  he  was  to 
employ  his  intercession  with  the  King  of  England  to  grant 
that  as  a  favour  which  Henry  was  only  too  anxious  to  concede. 
And  to  this,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  and  more  than  this, 
though  detrimental  to  his  own  interests  and  his  influence  in 
Scotland,  was  Francis  induced  by  the  persuasions  of  Fitz- 
wdlliam.  He  enjoined  the  Scotch  to  sue  for  peace,  and  send 
ambassadors  to  England  for  that  purpose ;  ^  and  Henry  was 
thanked  for  his  generosity  in  granting  terms  to  Scotland  at 
the  French  King's  solicitation.  "  The  matters  of  Scotland," 
writes  Fitzwilliam  a  few  days  after  to  the  King,  in  his  quiet 
and  significant  manner,  "  are  answered  after  your  own 
mind."^ 

Incessantly  employed  in  crushing  a  formidable  rebellion  in 
Spain,  the  Emperor  had  no  wish  to  be  embroiled  with  France, 
and  therefore  listened  readily  to  the  proposals  of  Wolsey,  that 
the  King  of  England  should  act  as  a  mediator,  and  compose 
the  differences  between  himself  and  his  rival.^  Wolsey  found 
no  difficulty  in  persuading  him  "  to  forbear  entering  on  a  war, 
regarding  the  state  of  his  affairs  in  Almayn,  Flanders,  Spain, 
Navarre,  and  his  other  countries,"  or  of  inducing  him  "  to  remit 
these  variances"  to  the  King's  hand;^  especially  as  he  in- 
sinuated that  in  so  doing  arrangements  might  be  made  for  an 
attack  upon  France  at  a  more  convenient  season.  But  with 
Francis,  on  the  other  hand,  in  spite  of  the  address  of  Fitz- 
william, and  "the  loving  communications  and  pleasant  devices  " 
of  Jerningham,  who  was  now  sent  to  his  assistance,  the  task 
was  more  delicate  and  more  difficult.  Immersed  in  the  bustle 
and  excitement  of  war,  his  confidence  of  success  was  increased 

'  III.  1212.  letter,  with  thow  hanswar  (answer) 

*  III.  1257.  to  an  artykell,  I  had  forgoton  whan 

*  III.  1227.  On  the  top  of  this  I  had  clossed  (closed)  my  letter." 
letter,  which  is  interesting  in  other  Competitive  examinations  were  not 
respects,  Fitzwilliam    has  written  in  then. 

his  own  hand  and  in  his  o\to  spelling: :  *  April  28,  1521  j  No.  1255. 

"  The    copy    of    thow    (the)    Kiug's  ^  II..  1270. 


1521.]  FEAXCIS    ACCEPTS   MEDIATION.  413 

bv  the  news  ^  that  the  young  D'Albret  had  entered  Navarre, 
had  taken  St.  John  Pie  de  Port,  and  no  later  than  Saturday 
last  (May  18th)  received  the  keys  of  Pampeluna,  memorable 
as  the  place  where  and  the  occasion  when  Ignatius  Loyola 
was  wounded.  He  protested  that  he  could  not  desist  from 
war,  and  submit  to  Henry's  arbitration.  The  Emperor,  he 
said,  had  oppressed  him  so  long,  he  could  not  with  honour 
abandon  his  enterprize.  His  army  was  now  ready  ;  to  disband 
it  would  be  a  great  disadvantage.  Fitzwilliam  listened  with 
coolness  and  attention,  allowed  him  to  talk  on  without  inter- 
ruption, gave  him  a  long  line  (he  knew  the  arts  of  a  sports- 
man), then  suggested  that  as  the  Emperor  had  already  offered 
to  submit  to  the  King's  arbitration,  Francis,  out  of  friendship, 
might  consent  to  do  the  same.^  The  French  King  replied 
that  he  was  too  well  acquainted  with  the  Emperor's  dissimula- 
tion to  sacrifice  his  present  opportunity ;  the  commons  of 
Spain  were  in  rebellion,  the  Electors  of  Germany  had  refused 
aid,  and  the  Swiss  had  rejected  the  Emperor's  offers.  He 
declined  to  waste  a  minute  in  fruitless  negociations  ;  but — if 
he  ever  consented  to  treat — he  would  put  himself  in  the  King's 
hands  sooner  than  in  any  other's. 

The  resolution  of  some  men  is  in  their  circumstances,  not 
in  themselves  ;  and  so  it  proved  now.  Fortune,  which  had 
hitherto  seemed  to  smile,  proved  proverbially  fickle.  The 
rebellion  in  Spain  was  suddenly  crushed  ;  the  first  advantages 
gained  in  Navarre  were  sacrificed  by  the  rashness  and  in- 
capacity of  d'Espares.  Nassau,  a  cool,  able,  and  implacable 
soldier,  retaliated  tenfold  the  injuries  committed  by  De  la 
Mark ;  destroyed  his  towns,  hung  up  his  garrisons,  imprisoned 
his  son,  and  forced  him  to  sue  for  an  ignoble  peace.  With 
misfortune  Francis  learned  moderation.  After  a  little  more 
blustering,  a  little  more  show  of  reluctance — for  the  cold  and 
quiet  observation  of  Fitzwilliam  was  not  to  be  deceived — he 
consented  to  treat ;  for  no  fear,  as  he  assured  Fitzwilliam — 
for  he  had  no  dread  of  any  man  living — but  only  for  the  love 
he  bore  to  the  Iving  his  brother,  and  out  of  regard  for  the 
peace  and  the  quiet  of  Christendom.'^ 

But  the  same  causes  which  had  induced  Francis  to  listen 
to  pacific  counsels  encouraged  Charles  to  retract,  and  breathe 
nothing  but  blood  and  vengeance.  He  had  been  informed,  on 
his  return  from  Worms  to  Maycnce,  of  the  invasion  of  Navarre 
and  the  capture  of  Pampeluna.     Fired  with  indignation,  he 

•  May  21;  No.  1303.         ^  111.  1315.  '  111.  1331. 


414  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

demanded  that  England,  in  conformity  with  the  promise  made 
at  the  meeting  at  Canterbury,  should  assist  him  in  punishing 
the  presumption  of  France  ;  adding,  in  a  tone  half  threatening, 
half  reproachful,  that,  had  he  been  willing  to  listen  to  the 
mediation  of  others,  no  variance  would  have  existed  between 
himself  and  the  French  King. 

At  no  time  is  the  life  of  a  prime  minister  a  bed  of  roses  ; 
and  so  Wolsey  found.  The  care  and  study  he  had  bestowed 
in  manipulating  the  French  King  now  seemed  likely  to  be 
wasted  by  this  sudden  intractability  of  the  Emperor.  At 
length,  after  many  difiiculties — not  to  weary  the  reader  with 
a  minute  account  of  these  tedious  negociations — both  powers 
consented  to  accept  Henry's  mediation.  It  was  arranged  that 
Wolsey  should  be  sent  to  Calais ;  nominally  with  full  powers 
to  hear  and  decide  their  differences ;  really  for  the  purpose  of 
concluding  a  stricter  amity  with  Charles,  without  exciting  the 
susj)icions  of  Francis.^  Before,  however,  he  consented  to  stir 
one  step  in  this  business,  he  exacted  from  both  princes  a 
written  assurance  to  accept  his  mediation ;  and  a  promise, 
at  the  same  time,  that,  not  until  his  sentence  was  pro- 
nounced, should  either  of  them  attempt  to  be  reconciled  to 
the  other. 

Did  both  parties  consent  to  this  strange  convention  from 
conviction  of  the  justice  of  their  cause,  or  confidence  in  the 
impartiality  of  Wolsey?  Did  they  submit  to  the  conditions 
thus  imposed  because  they  involved  no  sacrifice,  and  depended 
on  their  own  inclinations  to  break  or  observe  them?  Or — 
more  likely — were  all  parties  deceiving,  and  being  deceived  ? 
Francis  was  not  unacquainted  with  the  secret  understanding 
between  Henry  and  the  Emperor ;  nor  could  Charles  be 
ignorant  of  the  true  motive  which  demanded  that  he  should 
make  no  approaches  for  reconciliation  with  his  rival.  On  the 
other  hand,  so  keen  a  politician  as  Wolsey  would  hardly  repose 
such  implicit  belief  in  the  promises  of  the  two  sovereigns  as 
to  think  that  they  would  keep  their  word  when  it  no  longer 
suited  their  interests  or  their  inclinations.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  none  are  more  credulous  or  more  blind  than  those  who 
impose  on  the  credulity  of  others  ;  and,  harsh  as  it  may  be  to 
say  so,  kings  an(^^ their  ministers,  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
sate  down  to  the  game  of  political  diplomacy  with  a  fixed 
determination  to  overreach  not  only  their  opponents  but  their 
partners.     So  all  parties  concerned  deliberately  resolved  on 

'  III.  1340,  1383. 


1521.]  HENRY'S   DUPLICITY.  415 

securing  their  own  advantages,  without  too  nicely  scrutinizing 
the  means. 

'V\Tiatever  may  be  thought  of  this  conduct,  however  contrary 
it  may  appear  to  our  present  notions  of  fair  and  honourable 
dealing,  it  was  not  so  considered  then.  The  chivalrous 
application  of  the  Christian  maxim,  if  it  ever  had  any  exist- 
ence beyond  the  imagination  of  poets  and  romancers,  scarcely 
remained  in  the  times  of  the  Tudors ;  and  certainly  not  among 
the  Tudor  sovereigns.  Perhaps  the  selfishness,  the  cruelt}^ 
the  suspicion,  engendered  by  years  of  civil  strife,  still  left  a 
root  of  bitterness  behind  them.  To  count  on  the  forbearance 
of  their  enemy  might  be  an  amiable  weakness  in  the  Stuarts ; 
no  Tudor  would  have  trusted  the  generosity  of  a  friend,  much 
less  of  a  foe,  or  of  a  friend  who  might  prove  a  foe.  Love  of 
policy  for  its  own  sake,  strength  of  will,  proneness  to  suspicion, 
readiness  to  forgive,  inability  to  forget,  an  injury, — these 
were  the  characteristics  of  Henry  VIL,  and  ran  through  the 
whole  Itae  of  his  descendants.  In  Henry  VH.,  whose  throne, 
seated  on  a  molehill,  was  constantly  undermined  by  active  and 
unseen  enemies,  such  taints  in  the  blood  were  to  be  expected, 
and  might  be  excused.  Nurtured  in  distrust,  the  events  of  his 
life  had  fostered  in  him  the  habit  of  suspicion.  It  would  have 
been  unnatural  if  none  of  these  defects  had  descended  to  his 
son ;  especially  as  men  transmit  to  their  posterity  their  ignoble 
as  frequently  as  their  nobler  qualities.  Henry  VIII.  was  the 
son  of  Henry  VIL  From  the  "  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold," 
where  he  and  his  French  ally  had  met  as  brothers  in  arms, 
and  to  all  outward  appearance  brothers  in  affection,  Henry 
retired  to  meet  the  Emperor  at  Calais,  to  betray  and  sacrifice 
to  a  new  alliance  the  monarch  whose  hospitality  he  had  accepted 
and  returned.  He  had  solemnly  disavowed  to  the  French 
King  that  he  entertained  any  purpose  of  espousing  Mary  to 
the  Emperor.  And  now  one  of  the  chief  articles  to  be  dis- 
cussed and  settled  at  this  Calais  conference  was  the  secret  and 
final  transfer  of  her  hand  to  his  antagonist.  For  months  the 
King  had  been  urging  his  mediation  on  Francis  and  the 
Emperor,  assuring  both  that  their  honour  and  their  interests 
should  be  strictly  maintained.  Yet  from  the  first  he  had 
resolved  to  betray  his  French  ally,  and,  under  pretence  of 
mediation,  waited  only  for  a  closer  union  with  the  Emperor, 
and  a  more  convenient  season  for  invading  the  French 
dominions.  But  this  the  age  called  policy,  and  Henry,  as 
we  shall  see,  triumphed  in  the  thought  of  his  superior  dexterity. 


416  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHL  [A.D. 

Whatever  may  have  been  Wolsey's  part  in  these  intrigues, 
it  is  certain  that  not  a  single  step  was  taken  by  him  without 
the  full  knowledge  and  hearty  concurrence  of  his  master.  The 
following  account  left  us  by  the  imperial  ambassadors  of  their 
interview  with  the  King  of  England  on  this  occasion,  places 
this  assertion  beyond  question/ 

The  ambassadors  were  carried  down  to  Windsor  in  the  first 
week  of  June,  1521,  by  Sir  Richard  Wingfield,  and  lodged  in 
the  house  of  the  dean  of  the  chapel,  within  the  castle.  Here 
they  were  joined  at  supper  by  Pace,  the  King's  secretary.  At 
a  late  hour  in  the  evening,  when  his  Majesty  had  returned 
from  the  chase,  in  which  he  had  been  engaged  all  day,  the 
aforesaid  master  Secretary  came  to  them  with  a  message  that 
the  next  morning  (Wednesday,  5th)  the  King,  after  he  had 
risen,  would  give  them  a  favourable  audience. 

The  said  secretary  and  Master  Wingfield  came  next  morning 
in  search  of  the  ambassadors  to  their  lodgings,  and  between 
the  hours  of  ten  and  eleven  in  the  forenoon  conducted  them  to 
the  palace.  After  tarrying  some  time  in  the  ante-chamber, 
for  the  King  was  engaged  in  conversation  with  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk  and  the  Earl  of  Worcester,  the  said  secretary  came  to 
inform  them  that  his  Majesty,  after  hearing  mass,  had  found 
himself  in  such  good  appetite,  consequent  upon  the  exercise 
he  had  taken  in  the  chase  the  day  before,  that  he  wished  to 

'  The   notion,   once   popular  and  another  qnestion.     Yet  I  think  they 

still   entertained    in    some    quarters,  were  as  correct  and  competent  jadijes 

that  Henry  VIII.  was  an  inexperienced  on    this     matter     as    most     modern 

youth,  without  capacity  for  business,  theorists  ;  perhaps  bettet.     To  repre- 

without  concern  for  anything  beyond  sent    Henry  as   a  feeble  bungler,   to 

his  pleasures,  and  little  better  than  a  set  do-ivn  the  King  and  the  Cardinal 

tool  in  the  hands  of  his  great  minister,  as     children,     compared     with      the 

seems  to  me  so  extremely  absurd,  that  superior    political     intelligence     and 

I  should  have  thought  a  very  slight  sagacity  of  the  Emperor  and  Francis 

perusal   of   the    first    volume    of    the  I.,  is  mere  prejudice,  or  mere  puerility. 

State  Papers  of  his  reign,  published  It  is  not  the  SSyfiara  but  the  Trpdyixara 

some    years    since    by    the    English  which    must  decide   these  questions ; 

Government,  would   have  sufficed  to  and    the    comparative    strength   and 

dissipate    it    for    ever.       The    King  prosperity  of  the  three  nations  at  the 

might  be    more    fond    of    the    chase  death  of  their  respective  sovereigns, 

than  his  father  Henry  VII.,  and  in-  and  for  half   a   century  after,  is  the 

dulge  more  frequently  in  violent  exer-  best  criterion  of  the  abilities  of  their 

cise,  to  keep  down  his  growing  tendency  respective    rulers.       Even    if  the    at- 

to  corpulence ;  but  he  kejit  a  hand  no  tempted    conquest     of     France     was 

less  firm,  no  less  absolute,  than  his  chimerical,  and  involved  the  sacrifice 

father's,    over    his    ministers.       Woe  of  vast  treasure  for  a  barren  idea,  we 

betide   the   luckless    wight  who  was  have  yet  to  learn  that,  if  war  is  to  be 

careless  in  sending  intelligence,  or  the  permitted  at  all,  it  is  more  ennobling 

post  who  failed  in  his  duty !     What  and    less    demoralizing   when    under- 

judgment    is    to    be   formed    of    the  taken     for    profit    than    for    barren 

policy   of    the   King  and  Wolsey   is  honour. 


1521.]  DESIGN   OF   THE   CONFERENCE.  417 

dine  before  he  gave  them  audience.  Dinner  was  set  before 
them  in  the  said  apartment  {en  la  elite  sallc)  with  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk,  the  Earl  of  Worcester,  and  another  nobleman  who 
was  called  my  Lord  Acant  (my  Lord  of  Canterbury  or  the  Earl 
of  Kent?). 

Dinner  ended,  the  King  sent  for  them.  They  were  ushered 
into  his  presence  by  the  said  secretary  and  ambassador,  and 
then,  after  reverence  done  and  recommendations  made,  they 
presented  the  Emperor's  letters,  declaring  their  charge  as  they 
had  in  all  things  been  instructed  to  do  by  the  Cardinal. 

The  King  received  them  with  great  courtesy.  He  expressed 
himself  extremely  well  pleased,  and  lovingly  affected  to  the 
Emperor  and  his  projects  ;  but  he  declined  to  declare  himself 
at  present  in  the  way  that  the  Emperor  desired  ;  that  is  to 
say,  he  could  not,  for  many  reasons,  openly  announce  his 
determination  of  supporting  the  Emperor  in  his  war  against 
France ;  because,  in  so  doing,  he  could  render  him  no  effectual 
service,  and  would  bring  irreparable  injury  on  himself,  con- 
sidering that  his  enemies  were  ready  whilst  he  was  wholly 
unprepared.  He  said  that  he  was  of  opinion  that  the  Emperor 
should  by  all  means  remain  on  the  defensive,  incur  as  little 
risk  and  expense  as  possible,  until  they  two  had  consulted 
together,  and  fixed  on  the  time  and  manner  of  a  combined 
attack,  which  might  easily  he  settled  at  the  ensuing  conference. 
He  remarked,  in  conclusion,  that  he  fully  coincided  in  Wolsey's 
opinion,  that  the  Cardinal  should  he  sent  to  Calais  under  p?'etence 
of  hearing  the  grievances  of  Francis  and  the  Emperor,  and  as 
soon  as  he  saw  that  it  was  impossihle  to  hring  the  two  jiarties  to 
agreement  he  should  withdraw,  and  discuss  and  conclude  u'ith 
the  Emperor  the  matters  and  propositions  aforesaid  ;  which  was 
a  thing,  he  said,  he  most  desired.  He  added  another  motive 
for  desiring  delay :  the  pensions  due  from  France  for  the 
surrender  of  Tournay  in  1518  had  not  yet  been  paid  ;  and  too 
precipitate  a  declaration  of  hostility  would  justify  Francis  in 
withholding  them.^ 

To  the  general  line  of  policy  here  marked  out  by  the  King 
Wolsey  strictly  adhered  in  the  celebrated  conference  at  Calais ; 
— a  proof,  if  any  were  needed,  that  the  King  was  sincere  in 
the  counsel  he  gave  to  the  ambassadors,  and  in  his  professions 
of  friendship  for  the  Emperor.  It  is  not  pleasant  to  see  the 
two  great  potentates  of  Christendom  descending  to  artifices 
which  could  scarcely  bo  justified  against  a  declared  enemy, 

,'  III.  1395. 
VOL.  1.  2  K 


418  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

much  less  towards  a  professed  ally.  Such  conduct,  however 
little  it  accords  with  the  popular  conceptions  of  Henry's 
character,  or  with  that  homeliness  of  aim  and  transparency 
of  purpose  we  have  been  taught  to  expect  from  him,  is  far 
more  in  harmony  with  his  birth  and  the  traditions  of  his 
family.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  urged  in  palliation,  if  not  excuse, 
that  Henry  believed  that  Francis  would  have  acted  with  the 
same  dissimulation  had  the  same  opportunity  been  offered 
him  ;  and  in  his  creed  of  political  ethics  it  was  justifiable  by 
deceit  to  anticipate  deceit.  Perhaps  also  the  very  fact  that 
state-craft  was  king  craft,  and  not  popular  craft,  did  some- 
thing to  encourage  the  notion,  that  the  vulgar  honesty  of  the 
multitude  was  not  sufficiently  intricate  and  refined  for  the 
atmosphere  of  politics.  All  these  things  the  people  then  left 
wholly  to  their  rulers.  Class  theology,  class  literature,  class 
legislation,  class  politics,  can  only  become  strong,  hearty, 
humane,  and  national,  when  they  receive  the  vigorous  infusion 
of  a  broad  lay  element.  But  that  was  the  slow  outgrowth  of 
the  Reformation. 

Wolsey  delayed  his  journey  to  Calais  as  long  as  it  could 
be  delayed  with  safety  or  with  decency.  It  was  his  object  to 
give  the  Emperor  as  much  time  as  possible  for  pushing  on 
his  successes,  in  the  event  of  any  future  determination  at  the 
congress  that  both  parties  should  remain  in  the  status  quo. 
By  too  long  delay  the  equilibrium  of  both  might  become 
deranged,  and  his  mediation  be  rejected  or  despised.  He 
landed  at  Calais  on  the  2nd  of  August.  On  the  road  from 
London  to  Dover  he  was  received  with  great  demonstrations 
of  respect ;  for  the  people  had  persuaded  themselves  that  the 
purport  of  his  mission  was  somehow  favourable  to  the 
Emperor ;  and  there  was  not  a  man  throughout  the  realm 
of  England,  from  the  noble  to  the  lowest  bondsman,  who  did 
not  rejoice  at  the  prospect.  When  Montpesat,  the  late  French 
ambassador,  returned  to  the  French  Court,  after  a  long 
residence  in  this  country,  he  expressed  his  conviction  that, 
with  the  exception  of  the  King  and  the  Cardinal,  "  all  England 
after  cared  not  and  (if)  all  the  Frenchmen  were  in  the  same 
case  they  were  in  in  Navarre  " — Navarre  having  been  lately 
recovered  by  Charles  from  the  French,  not  without  a  bitter 
exhibition  of  his  vengeance.^  But  even  in  this  exception 
Montpesat  was  deceived ;  for  Henry,  fired  with  the  thought  of 
recovering  what  even  Wolsey  did  not  hesitate  to  call  "his 

'  III.  1456. 


1521.]  WOLSEY   SETS   OUT.  419 

righteous  inberitanee  in  France,"  was  to  the  full  as  desirous 
as  any  of  his  subjects  of  seeing  that  kingdom  reduced  once 
more  to  the  condition  of  a  conquered  province.  Henry  V.  was 
still  the  most  popular  of  English  monarchs.  The  deeds  of 
the  brave  John  Talbot,  "the  terror  of  the  French,"  were  still 
watered  with  the  tears  of  Englishmen,  and  freshly  embalmed 
in  their  memory.  So  the  chance  of  a  war  with  France  was 
as  welcome  as  its  alliance  was  odious ;  and  though  lord 
mayors  and  aldermen  were  not  generally  to  be  found  among 
the  number  of  the  Cardinal's  well-wishers,  they  attended  him 
on  this  occasion  with  profuse  demonstrations  of  respect, 
bidding  him  "  God  speed !  "  and  confusion  to  the  enemies  of 
England. 

Ai-med  against  all  contingencies,  the  Cardinal  carried  with 
him  various  commissions,  all  bearing  the  same  date  of  the 
29th  of  July.  By  the  first  he  was  empowered  to  settle  the 
differences  between  Francis  I.  and  Charles  V. ;  by  the  second, 
to  conclude  a  treaty  of  marriage  between  the  Princess  Mary 
and  the  Emperor ;  by  the  third,  to  arrange  a  league  between 
the  Emperor  and  the  King  of  England  for  carrying  war  into 
France,  and  recovering  the  King's  dominions.  By  another 
set,  intended  to  serve  as  blinds,  he  was  authorized  to  treat  of 
a  closer  amity  with  Francis  I.,  and,  if  need  be,  make  a  general 
confederation  of  all  the  great  powers  of  Christendom.^ 

The  Cardinal  was  attended  on  his  journey  by  the  Bishops 
of  Durham  (Euthal)  and  Ely  (West),  the  Earl  of  Worcester, 
the  Prior  of  St.  John's,  and  the  Master  of  the  Piolls  (Tunstal). 
On  reaching  Calais,  he  found  the  imperial  deputies  waiting  his 
arrival.  To  them  he  gave  the  first  audience,  apparently  the 
day  after.  The  French  ambassadors  entered  the  town  on  the 
4th,  and  were  honourably  received  at  the  entrance  of  the 
English  pale  by  the  English  marshal.  On  the  5th  they  were 
admitted  to  an  audience.  In  conversation  with  the  French 
deputies,  the  Cardinal  enlarged  on  the  determination  of  the 
Emperor  to  prosecute  the  war  with  alacrity,  and  his  own 
anxiety  to  procure  an  advantageous  truce  for  their  master  ; 
with  the  imperial  deputies  he  urged  the  paramount  import- 
ance of  the  good  will  and  alliance  of  England.  But  his 
greatest  ingenuity  and  skill  were  bent  on  securing  for  his  royal 
master  the  m,ost  advantageous  terms  at  the  proposed  marriage 
of  the  Princess  and  the  Emperor.  He  insisted  on  complete 
indemnity  for  all  losses  which  England  would  sustain  by  its 

'  III.  1443. 


420  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

rupture  with  France.  With  Mary's  hand  the  Emperor  de- 
manded a  milHon  ducats.  Wolsey  reduced  the  sum  to  80,000L 
The  imperiahsts  insisted  that  the  Princess  should  be  dehvered 
into  their  hands  "  as  soon  as  she  should  be  seven  years  of 
age ;  "  they  also  objected  to  the  indemnity,  for  that,  said  they, 
was  to  buy  friendship  when  they  had  a  right  to  demand  it ; 
and,  whilst  Henry  wished  to  be  left  wholly  at  liberty,  he  tied 
the  Emperor  to  hard  conditions.  The  conditions  were  disputed 
with  great  obstinacy  on  both  sides,  the  imperialists  fearing  to 
make  the  least  concession,  lest,  if  the  Cardinal  gained  in  one 
advantage,  he  should  expect  to  gain  in  all.  His  courage,  his 
perseverance,  his  indomitable  resolution  triumphed  over  every 
difficulty.  Neither  threats  nor  flattery  could  induce  him  to 
yield  a  single  point,  or  wring  from  him  the  slightest  conces- 
sion. On  his  first  arrival  at  Calais,  the  Emperor,  then  at 
Ghent,  had  gone  to  Bruges.  From  Bruges  he  wrote  to  Wolsey 
the  most  j)ressing  invitations  ;  determined,  as  he  assured  him, 
to  be  guided  entirely  by  his  counsel.  "  You  and  I,"  he  said, 
"  will  do  more  in  a  day  than  my  ambassadors  will  do  in  a 
month."  ^  "  You  have  always  told  me  that  you  would  apprise 
me  of  certain  things  that  no  man  should  know  except  the 
King,  you,  and  me  ;  and  for  my  part,  I  have  assured  you  that 
I  will  show  you  the  bottom  of  my  heart :  " — true  or  false,  an 
unusual  demonstration  of  frankness  on  his  part.  Two  days 
after  he  wrote  again  in  terms  no  less  pressing  and  confiding. 
On  one  occasion  Wolsey  had  gone  so  far  as  to  send  out  his 
harbingers,  and  order  his  carriages  for  Bruges ;  but  finding 
that  the  imperial  ambassadors  were  inclined  to  dally  with 
their  engagements,  he  countermanded  his  equipage  until  "  a 
more  towardly  answer  "  should  be  received  from  the  Emperor.^ 
Whatever  else  may  be  denied  him,  he  was  certainly  not  want- 
ing in  political  courage.  Once  resolved,  nothing  could  shake 
him.  Keen,  sagacious,  precise,  a  rigid  adherent  to  the  strict 
letter  of  agreements,  as  in  his  person  so  in  his  policy  he  was 
the  type  and  model  of  an  English  statesman.  And,  like  most 
Englishmen,  he  set  a  high  value  on  the  litera  scripta  as  the 
best  security  from  misinterpretation  and  cavil.  To  memory 
and  generosity  he  trusted  nothing. 

Such  strict  and  vulgar  habits  of  business  were  as  gall  and 

wormwood  to  the  imperious  Spaniards,  whose  formal  gravity 

was  offended  by  Wolsey's  abruptness  and  precision.     To  have 

their  words  taken  down  in  writing  they  considered  a  reflection 

•  Aug. ;  No.  1475.  2  III.  1479. 


1521.]  WOLSEY   DECEIVES   FKANCIS.  421 

uj^on  their  honour.  They  despised  such  precision  as  an 
impediment  to  business,  and  ridiculed  the  genius  of  the  man 
who  was  so  minutely  practical,  so  scrupulously  exact.  "  Sir," 
■^M'ites  Wolsey  to  Henry  VIII.,  "if  such  difficulties,  arguments, 
and  persuasions  as  have  been  used  by  the  Emperor's  council 
from  day  to  day  were  to  your  Grace  known,  and  the  reasons 
by  me  set  forth  to  the  confutation  of  the  same,  some  time 
with  shar^D  words  and  some  time  in  pleasant  manner,  with  the 
labors,  business,  and  study  that  I  have  taken  therein,  whereby 
for  lack  of  sleep  I  have  been  inquieted  with  sundry  disorders, 
your  Grace  should  evidently  perceive  that  I  have  omitted 
according  to  my  most  bounden  duty,  as  far  as  my  poor  wit 
wiU  extend,  nothing  that  might  redound  to  the  advancement 
of  your  honour  and  surety."  ^ 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  carry  my  readers  through  the 
details  of  the  conference  at  Calais.  Three  distinct  accounts 
of  it,  by  each  of  the  j)arties  engaged  in  it,  have  been  pre- 
served.^ It  was  not  intended  from  the  first — probably,  by 
any  party — that  it  should  lead  to  any  definite  results,  much 
less  determine  the  disputes  between  the  Emperor  and  the 
French  King.  Of  the  parties  engaged  in  it,  each  had  purposes 
of  his  own  to  serve.  It  was  the  object  of  England  to  give  the 
Emperor  an  advantage  over  his  opponent ;  to  gain  for  him, 
under  the  disguise  of  Wolsey's  arbitration,  what  he  could  not 
have  gained  in  his  own  person  by  open  hostility.  A  sharp 
and  a  short  war  would  have  been  most  conducive  to  the 
interests  of  Francis.  He  had  raised  a  formidable  army ;  he 
had  taken  foreign  troops  into  pay ;  his  successes  in  Navarre 
had  inspired  his  officers  with  confidence ;  restless  spirits,  like 
De  la  Mark,  Fleuranges,  Bayard,  De  Foix,  and  others,  were 
abroad,  anxious  to  signalize  their  courage  by  a  campaign 
against  the  Emperor.  Charles,  on  the  other  hand,  was  in 
want  of  money  and  ammunition ;  Spain  was  still  disquieted 
by  rebellion ;  the  troops  under  Nassau  had  been  decimated  by 
sickness  ;  England  was  not  only  unprepared,  but,  in  prospect 
of  a  war  with  Scotland,  must  have  left  its  imperial  ally  to 
fight  single-handed,  or  make  the  best  terms  he  could  with  his 
formidable  rival.  To  Francis  delay  was  little  better  than 
destruction.     It  impoverished  his   finances,  ruined  his  best 

•  III.  1502.  secretary  (No.  1817).     To  tlieso  mny 

*  The   English    in    Wolsey's   own  be  added  the  letters  from  both  sides, 
letters;    the    imperial    bv    Gattinaia  extending  from  Nos.  1458  to  1818. 
{ill.  1810)  ;  the  French  'by  du  I'rat's 


422  THE   KEIGN   OF  HENKY   VIII.  [A.D. 

provinces,  dispirited  liis  army,  discouraged  his  friends.  Yet 
he  cknig  with  a  peevish  tenacity  to  the  hope  of  the  neutrality, 
if  not  of  the  friendship,  of  England.  More  than  half  convinced 
of  their  fallaciousness,  he  was  willing  to  be  deceived  by  the 
Cardinal's  promise ;  and  he  allowed  the  congress  to  drag  its 
slow  length  along  through  four  most  important  months,  from 
July  to  the  end  of  November.  More  strangely  still,  he  was 
content  to  see  its  proceedings  entirely  suspended  for  nearly 
three  weeks  in  August,  whilst  Wolsey  was  closeted  with  the 
Emperor  at  Bruges.  Day  after  day  brought  him  in  reality 
no  nearer  to  the  great  object  of  his  wishes.  The  Emperor, 
unfettered  and  fully  aware  of  Wolsey's  intentions,  continued 
to  act  on  the  offensive,  as  if  no  mediation  had  been  thought 
of.  In  Champagne  and  in  Italy,  Francis  was  daily  losing 
important  advantages ;  his  reputation  was  suffering  from  the 
superior  activity  and  success  of  his  rival.  Yet  he  still  pre- 
sumed on  the  friendship  of  Wolsey,  and  believed,  or  at  least 
professed  to  believe,  in  his  good  offices. 

More  outspoken  or  more  sagacious,  his  celebrated  sister 
Marguerite  could  not  forbear  expressing  her  anger  at  so 
transparent  a  deception.  After  the  taking  of  Arde  by  Charles, 
where  many  Enghshmen  had  joined  the  imperialists,  she  said 
one  day  to  Fitzwilliam,  still  ambassador  at  the  French  court, ^ 
"  The  King  (Francis)  is  now  departed  towards  his  journey, 
and  I  doubt  not  by  God's  help  but  he  shall  have  good  speed, 
for  he  goeth  upon  a  good  quarrel,  and  dealeth  justly  with 
every  prince,  and  yet  all  princes  go  about  to  deceive  him." 
Fitzwilliam  fired  up  at  the  insinuation — for,  Hke  other  ambas- 
sadors, he  was  kept  in  the  dark  as  to  the  King's  or  the 
Cardinal's  secret  intentions — and  he  answered  abruptly,  "My 
master  is  in  the  number  of  all  jprinces,  but  I  trust  you  think 
that  he  goeth  not  about  to  deceive  him."  Marguerite,  not  to 
be  daunted  by  his  brusquerie,  answered  abruptly,  "  See  ye  not 
how  the  Cardinal  is  ever  treating  of  peace,  almost  to  the  day 
of  battle  ?  Our  enemies  come  still  upon  us ;  and  Arde,  which 
the  King  forbore  to  fortify  at  your  master's  request.  English- 
men now  have  been  present  at  the  winning  thereof,  and  helped 
to  raze  it.  What  say  ye  to  that  ?  And  as  for  trust,  that  is 
past.  The  King  will  make  himself  strong,  and  trust  in  God." 
Fitzwilliam  replied,  "As  for  the  treaty  my  lord  Cardinal  hath 
gone  about  in  the  name  of  my  .master,  Madam,  I  made 
request  to  the  King  your  brother  for  the  same,  in  the  King 

'  Sept.  15  ;  No.  1581. 


1521.]  MARGUEKITE   AND  FITZWILLIAM.  423 

my  master's  behalf,  afore  any  war  was  begun.  And  at  that 
time  the  Emperor  was  content,  and  the  King  your  brother 
would  not  be  contented."  "And  as  for  the  long  time  of  the 
making  of  this  peace,"  continued  the  ambassador,  growing 
every  moment  more  hot  and  more  impatient  (for,  as  he  says 
of  himself,  "  he  was  a  young  man  in  years,  and  choleric  of 
complexion  "),  oblivious  also  for  the  time  that  he  was  talking 
to  a  lady,  "  there  is  no  man  that  shall  say  and  prove  it,  that 
either  my  master's  or  my  lord  Cardinal's  grace  drives  it  on  so 
long,  to  do  the  King  your  brother  any  displeasure,  but  only 
for  the  good  will  they  have  to  the  tranquillity  of  all  Christen- 
dom. And  if  ye  shall  speak  of  any  particular  person,  I  think 
they  have  taken  this  jDain  more  for  your  brother's  sake  than 
for  an}'  man  living ;  and  if  there  be  any  man  that  will  say  the 
contrary,  I  shall  prove  it  as  a  gentleman,  he  sayeth  untruly. 
As  for  Arde,  I  cannot  say  whether  there  were  any  Englishmen 
at  the  razing  thereof  or  not ;  but  I  dare  say  this,  that  it  was 
not  by  the  consent  nor  knowledge  of  the  King's  highness  nor 
your  grace  "  {sc.  Wolsey,  to  whom  he  was  writing).  Then 
glancing  at  the  encouragement  shown  by  Francis  to  Albany, 
De  la  Pole,  and  other  English  exiles,  Fitzwilliam  continued, 
"But  there  be  Englishmen  in  Flanders  as  be  in  France; 
some  banished  for  murder,  some  for  felony,  and  some  unthrifts 
that  seek  .  .  .^  and  if  any  were  there,  I  reckon  they  were 
such."  "And  I  assm-ed  her,"  he  tells  the  Cardinal,  "that 
the  King  my  master  was  no  dissembler ;  for  there  was  no 
man,  no,  not  her  brother,  nor  no  other  prince  living,  but  and 
he  bare  him  hardly  in  hand,  that  he  would  be  afraid  to  show 
it."  The  candour  and  honest  warmth  of  Fitzwilliam — for  he 
spoke  in  perfect  simplicity  and  good  faith — produced  their 
effect.  Marguerite  was  pacified,  and  declared  her  resolution 
to  repose  confidence  in  the  King  until  she  saw  reason  for  the 
contrary,  "  which  once  seen  she  would  never  trust  man  after." 
This  explosion  of  loyal  indignation  is  amusing.  It  was 
owing  in  some  part  to  the  ambassador's  suspicion  that 
Marguerite  had  in  this  instance  been  instigated  by  Louise  of 
Savoy,  the  profoundest  politician  and  dissembler  in  the  court 
of  her  son;  "for  she  stood  so  nigh  she  might  hear  every 
word."  Yet  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  it  indicates  an  uneasy 
feeling  in  the  mind  of  the  ambassador  himself,  that  after  all 
there  might  be  some  truth  in  the  insinuation  so  derogatory, 
as  ho  rightly  considered,  to  his  master's  and  the  Cardinal's 

'  The  jjassage  is  unhappily  mutilated,  like  others  in  the  letter. 


424  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

honour.  For  though  Machiavellism — or  rather  those  practices 
and  those  principles  which  Machiavelh,  finding  predominant 
in  his  own  age,  embodied  into  a  system — infected  all  the 
courts  of  Europe,  England  not  excepted,  the  sense  of  honour 
and  good  faith  among  individual  men  happily  remained  as 
yet  untainted.  It  was,  however,  a  dangerous  ordeal  to  which 
the  men  of  this  sixteenth  century  were  exposed;  an  abyss 
which  few  could  enter  without  being  scathed  and  scarred  by 
its  impure  atmosphere.  The  poisonous  aftergrowth  of  a 
defective  morality,  too  ready  to  justify  the  means  for  the  sake 
of  the  end,  political  finesse,  like  pious  frauds,  sprung  from 
that  root  of  an  evil  principle  which  too  often  dwarfed  and 
choked  the  otherwise  noble  deeds  and  noble  purposes  of  grand 
and  courageous  natures  in  the  Middle  Ages.  It  was  the  more 
dangerous  because  men  yielded  to  its  temptation,  in  the 
persuasion  that  they  were  thereby  serving  their  country  or 
the  cause  of  God,  and  not  themselves.  Happily,  we  have 
purged  the  political  horizon.  No  statesman  would  nowadays 
condescend  to  duplicity  to  please  his  sovereign;  no  ambas- 
sador would  be  deceived  without  resentment  into  pledging  his 
honour  to  a  falsehood.  But  it  follows  not  that  we  are  better 
than  they.  The  practice  of  some  men  is  better  than  their 
theories — God  be  i)raised  ! — and  of  others  it  is  much  worse. 

But  such  practices  draw  their  own  Nemesis  after  them, 
and  so  they  did  in  Wolsey's  case.  How  far  this  decexDtion, 
successfully  practised  on  the  French,  contributed  afterwards  to 
his  fall ;  how  far  it  might  tend  to  shake  men's  confidence  in 
him,  theirs  even  who  were  most  to  profit  by  his  pohcy ; — I  will 
not  stay  to  inquire.  Three  months  were  fast  waning;  Novem- 
ber was  at  hand,  with  its  stormy  weather,  ominous  of  a  rough 
sea  and  a  disagreeable  passage.  The  Cardinal's  health,  never 
strong,  had  suffered  at  Calais  from  the  climate,  from  anxiety, 
from  incessant  labour.  He  was  anxious  to  return ;  but  it  was 
important  before  he  left  that  he  should  patch  up  a  truce 
between  the  two  contending  parties.  The  preparations  of 
Francis  alarmed  him ;  ^  the  Emperor's  troops  and  means  were 
insufficient,  and  disaster  would  be  attended  with  serious  con- 
sequences. He  was  scarcely  less  afraid  of  the  Emperor's 
successes  than  his  reverses,  for  with  success  he  might  prove 
refractory,  and  refuse  England  its  share  of  the  spoils.^  He 
pressed  on  Charles  the  necessity  of  an  armistice ;  he  pressed 

»  See  III.  1488. 

«  See  III.  1612,  1613,  1616,  1617,  1694. 


1521.]  WOLSEY  EETURNS.  425 

it  on  Francis.  To  the  former  it  was  indispensable  :  the 
troubles  in  Spain  and  Flanders,  the  sickness  of  his  army,  the 
necessity  of  making  seasonable  preparations  for  a  united 
campaign  the  next  summer^  were  urgent.  To  Francis  he 
magnified  the  losses  he  had  already  sustained;  the  uncer- 
tainty of  success ;  the  resolution  of  the  Emperor.  Both 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  his  entreaties.  To  the  French  a  truce 
was  of  no  advantage  except  as  a  condition  of  lasting  peace. 
That,  of  course,  neither  England  nor  the  Emperor  w^anted. 
If  Francis  would  accept  a  truce  for  the  present,  Wolsey  offered 
to  lay  his  head  that  peace  would  follow  in  six  months,  on 
whatever  conditions  he  chose  to  impose.^  More  cautious  and 
clear-sighted  than  his  master,  Du  Prat  urged  him  to  refuse. 
He  had  already  begun  to  suspect  the  sincerity  of  "  M.  le 
Mediatem-,"  as  he  termed  Wolsey.^  Charles,  whose  interests 
had  been  studied  by  Wolsey  throughout,  was  not  only  less 
compliant,  but  even  hinted  to  his  own  ambassador  that  the 
Cardinal  intended  to  betray  him.*  At  last,  worn  out  with 
fruitless  opposition,  the  Cardinal  wrote  to  Worcester  and 
others,^  "  I  have  been  here  for  my  part  as  sore  tempested  in 
mind  by  the  untowardness  of  the  chancellor  and  orators,  on 
every  side,  putting  so  many  difficulties  and  obstacles  to  con- 
descend to  any  reasonable  conditions  of  truce  and  abstinence 
of  war,  that  night  nor  day  I  could  have  no  quietness  ne  rest, 
so  that  almost  mine  appetite  and  sleep  are  sequestrate  from 
me." 

Finding  all  further  stay  useless,  he  returned  on  the  28tli 
of  November,  and  reached  Dover  in  a  sailing  vessel,^  after  a 
stormy  passage  of  fifteen  hours. 

Whatever  might  be  Wolsey's  own  disappointment  or  dis- 
satisfaction at  the  results  of  his  negociation,  he  experienced 
no  diminution  in  the  favour  of  his  royal  master.  The  King 
was  delighted.  It  was  enough  that  Francis  had  been  deceived. 
The  former  frank  interchange  of  courtesies  between  himself 
and  his  rival  was  entirely  forgotten.  Esteem,  if  that  word  be 
not  too  emphatic,  had  been  succeeded  by  personal  animosity, 
not  to  say  antipathy.  The  change  appears  so  sudden,  so 
unaccountable,   that  late  writers  have   attributed   it   to  dis- 

•  See    III.    1691.     Compare   Nos.       natural  interpretation   of   hi.s   -words 
1612,  1613,  1616,  1017,  1736.  when  comparod  witli  the  doi-patclies 

2  III.  1556.  of  Don  Manuel. 

»  III.  1743,  1746.  »  in.  1728. 

♦  III.  1663.     He  docs  not  say  so  «  111.  1810. 
openly ;    but    this   seems   to    uio   the 


426  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

appointed  vanity,  and  trace  it  as  far  back  as  the  interview  at 
the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold.  Fleuranges,  who  was  present 
on  that  occasion,  has  preserved  an  anecdote,  which  some  have 
deemed  sufficient  to  account  for  Henry's  bitterness.  One  day, 
after  the  jousts  were  ended,  the  wrestlers  of  France  and 
England  advanced  to  the  front,  and  displayed  their  skill 
before  the  Kings  and  the  ladies ;  a  beautiful  pastime,  he 
remarks,  for  there  were  many  strong  wrestlers  present ;  ^  and 
because  the  King  of  Prance  had  not  brought  any  wrestlers 
from  Brittany,  the  English  carried  off  the  j^rize.  They  next 
proceeded  to  drawing  the  bow,  in  which  the  King  of  England 
took  part,  for  he  was  a  marvellous  good  archer  and  a  strong  ; 
and  it  was  very  pleasant  to  see  him.  These  amusements 
ended,  the  Kings  of  France  and  England  retired  to  their  tent, 
where  they  drank  together.  This  done,  the  King  of  England 
took  the  King  of  France  by  the  collar,  saying,  "  Come,  my 
brother,  let  us  try  a  fall."  After  one  or  two  feints,  the  King 
of  France,  who  was  an  expert  wrestler,  tripped  up  the  heels  of 
his  brother  of  England,  and  gave  him  a  marvellous  somerset. 
Henry  on  rising  would  have  tried  another  round ;  but  was 
interrupted,  and  all  were  summoned  to  supper.^ 

If  the  tale  be  true — though  Fleuranges  is  not  a  trust- 
worthy authority — such  defeats  as  this  must  have  been  far 
too  common  in  those  frequent  displays  of  personal  prowess, 
to  which  that  age  was  addicted,  to  entail  disgrace,  or  to  cause 
such  a  lasting  resentment.  The  rivalry  of  the  two  monarchs 
sprung  from  more  natural  and  more  adequate  causes.  There 
never  had  been  any  real  cordiality  between  them,  not  even  at 
the  interview;  and  every  circumstance  since  then  had  tended 
to  augment  his  dislike  of  the  French  monarch,  and  strengthen 
his  determination  of  recovering  what,  in  common  with  most 
of  his  subjects,  he  regarded  as  his  ancient  patrimony  and 
"righteous  inheritance."^    He  had  consequently  gone  heart 

•  My  readers  will  remember  the  going  to  the  said  Emperor  was  for  to 
use  made  by  Shakespeare  of  this  establish  good  and  perfect  amity 
species  of  entertainment  in  "  As  you  betwixt  the  King  and  him,  and  to 
like  it."  knit    an    indissoluble    knot    of    love 

*  Memoires,  ch.  67.  betwixt  them ;  ivhich  thing  is  to  their 
^  Thus    Pace    writes    to    Wolsey :       inestimable    contentation,   rejoice    and 

"  And  now  I  signify  unto  your  Grace  comfort,     and     redoundeth    to     your 

that    though  the  commonalty  of  this  Grace's  great  honor  and  surety,  as  it 

realm,  of    every  sort,   had  no  know-  evidently  appeareth  by  the  common 

ledge  of  such  secret  matters  as  your  voice.     And  the  sending  forth  of  the 

Grace   hath    treated    and    concluded  King's  letters  for  the  preparation  of 

with  the  Emperor,  yet  they  do  deem  the   6000  archers  doth  somewhat  in- 

by  conjecture  that  the  cause  of  your  crease   this   matter  ;    for   every   man 


1521.]        AVOLSEY  EECEIVES  THE  ABBEY  OF  ST.  ALBAN'S.        427 

and  hand  "with  Wolsey  in  all  that  he  had  done  at  the  late 
conference.  Every  stroke  of  policy^  purchased  as  it  might  be, 
at  the  cost  of  sincerity  and  honourable  dealing,  was  regarded 
by  him  as  a  just  advantage.  It  was  not  merely  that  Wolsey 
by  his  great  ability  and  successful  intrigues  had  secured  an 
imperial  son-in-law  for  the  hand  of  the  Princess  Mary,  had 
concluded  the  match  at  the  smallest  possible  cost,  had  exacted 
an  indemnity  against  all  pecuniary  losses  incurred  by  a 
rujDture  with  France :  more  than  all,  he  had  paved  the  way 
for  the  conquest  of  France  itself,  and  already  in  his  imagina- 
tion the  King  beheld  himself  entering  the  gates  of  Paris  at 
the  head  of  a  victorious  army.  He  commanded  Pace  to 
express  to  Wolsey  how  much  the  King  was  satisfied  with  his 
conduct.  He  had,  he  said,  shown  as  great  regard  to  his 
honour  and  surety  as  he  himself  could  have  by  any  manner  of 
study  devised.  "  He  thanked  God,"  he  added,  "  that  he  had 
such  a  chaplain  by  whose  wisdom,  fidelity,  and  labor  he  could 
obtain  greater  acquisitions  than  all  his  progenitors  were  able 
to  accomplish  with  all  their  numerous  wars  and  battles."  ^ 
A  few  days  after  he  commanded  Pace  to  write  again,  and 
convey  to  the  Cardinal  the  King's  "  most  hearty  thanks  for 
the  gi-eat  pains  and  labors  sustained  (by  him)  in  the  bringing 
of  his  said  aflairs  to  such  conclusion  and  end,  as  most 
redoundeth  to  his  honor  and  surety,  saying  that  everything 
in  effect  is  finished  according  to  his  own  desire."  ^ 

During  Wolsey's  absence  at  Calais  the  rich  abbey  of  St. 
Alban's  had  fallen  vacant  by  the  death  of  Abbot  Eamridge — 
a  personage  only  known  to  history  as  having  stood  sponsor  to 
the  eldest  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  and  of  Mary  the 
French  Queen.^  Although  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  opulent 
of  the  religious  foundations  in  England,  the  abbey  had  fallen 
into  great  decay,  partly  in  consequence  of  the  civil  wars  of  the 
last  century,  partly  from  the  age  and  infirmities  of  the  last 
abbot,  whose  investiture  carries  us  back  to  1492.  When  the 
monks  appeared  before  the  King  at  Windsor,  on  the  12th  of 
November,  to  request  his  letters  patent  for  a  new  election,  he 

jvdgeth  thereby  that  we  shall  have  war  dared   to   write  in  this  style  to  the 

against  France,  whereof  they   be  most  Cardinal,  liad  he  not  been  very  well 

desirous ;     though    peradvrntwe     they  assured  that  Wolsey  shared  the  same 

will  shortly  desire  to  come  home  again,  sentiments. 

when  they   be  there.     Sept.  4."     This  '  Aug.  29,  1521,  iu  the  heat  of  the 

last  sentence  is  worth  remarking ;  for  Calais  confcrenee. 

it  shows  what  was  Pace's  opinion  of  ^  III.    1539,    September   3.      See 

the  clamours  of  tlie  people  for  a  war  also  No.  1513. 

with   France.      Nor    would   he   have  ^  II.  34«7,  3489. 


428  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY  YIH.  [A.D.  1521. 

made  them  a  speech,  the  substance  of  which,  for  "  its  princely 
and  godly  motion,"  Pace,  who  was  present,  thought  it  worth 
while  to  repeat  to  the  Cardinal  next  day.^  As  he  was  penning 
his  letter,  he  received  a  communication  from  Wolsey  "  touch- 
ing the  monastery  of  St.  Alban's."  "  And,"  continues  Pace 
in  a  postscript,  "after  I  had  perused  and  diligently  debated 
with  myself  the  contents  of  the  same,  I  went  straight  to  the 
King's  grace  with  your  Grace's  letters  to  him  directed  in  the 
same  matter.  And  I  found  him  ready  to  go  out  a  shooting. 
And  yet,  that  notwithstanding,  his  Grace  received  from  me 
the  said  letters,  and,  as  it  chanced  happily,  commanded  me 
to  go  down  with  him  by  his  secret  way  into  the  park  ;  whereby 
I  had  as  good  commodity  as  I  could  desire  to  advance  your 
Grace's  petition,  as  much  as  the  case  required.  And  the  King 
read  your  Grace's  letters  himself,  and  made  me  privy  to  the 
contents  of  the  same.  And  the  few  words  that  his  Highness 
spoke  to  me  in  this  cause  were  these  :  "  By  God,  my  lord 
Cardinal  hath  sustained  many  charges  in  this  his  voyage,  and 
expended  10,000Z.'  Which  [I]  did  affirm  and  show  his  Grace 
of  good  congruence  he  oweth  unto  you  som.e  recompence. 
Whereunto  his  Grace  answered  that  he  would  rather  give  unto 
your  Grace  the  abbey  of  St.  Alban's  than  to  any  monk." 

So  Wolsey  added  to  his  other  dignities  and  emoluments 
that  of  the  most  ancient  mitred  abbey  in  England. 

'  See  III.  1759. 


(  429  ) 


CHAPTER  XV. 

DEATH  OF  LEO  X. — WAR  WITH  FRANCE. 

WoLSEY  bad  not  returned  many  days  when  the  unexpected 
intelligence  arrived  of  the  death  of  Leo  X.  "  Eight  days 
past,"  says  Clerk,  the  English  ambassador  at  Rome,  writing 
to  Wolsey  of  the  occurrence,^  "  what  time  tidings  came  of  the 
winning  of  Milan,  his  Holiness  was  forth  a  sporting,  at  a 
place  of  his  own  called  Manlian,  six  miles  out  of  Rome ;  and 
the  selfsame  day  coming  home  to  Rome  took  cold ;  and  the 
next  day  fell  in  a  fever,  which  was  bis  death.  At  bis  coming 
home  from  Manlian,  I  met  his  Holiness,  and  methought  I 
never  saw  him  more  lusty."  The  day  before  Clerk  had  written 
to  Wolsey  to  tell  him  "  the  Pope's  holiness  bath  been  sick 
these  six  days,  and  this  night  past  bad  a  very  sore  night, 
insomuch  that  bis  Holiness's  physicians  thought  be  should 
not  a'  scaped  till  day.  It  is  noised  that  bis  Holiness  bad  rest 
this  day ;  bowbeit  there  be  not  many  that  can  tell  that,  for 
there  cometh  very  few  at  him.  I  am  credibly  informed  that 
bis  holiness  is  in  very  great  danger."^  Rumour  was  busy,  as 
usual,  in  assigning  all  sorts  of  sinister  interpretations  to  the 
rapidity  of  his  illness  and  the  fatality  of  its  termination. 
"  He  bad  eaten  or  drunk  something  he  should  not,"  said  the 
Spanish  ambassador,  more  familiar  with  poisons  than  the 
homely  Englishman.     The  Italians,  expert   manipulators  of 

'  December  2 :  see  III.  1825.     Sir  important     correction     the     passa.Ere 

Henry   Ellis,   who    has   printed  this  affords  of  the  mistake  made  by  his- 

letter  (Third  Series,  i.  280),  exemplifies  torians  in  attributing  Leo's  death  to 

the  danger  of  a  misplaced  colon,  and  the  2nd  of  December,  instead  of  eight 

the  fatal  mistakes  into  which  historians  days  before  that  date.     There  may  be 

are  sometimes  apt  to  fall,     lie  reads  some  doubt  whether  Leo  died   on  the 

the  passage  thus  :  "  This  morning  the  1st  or  the  2nd  of  December,  consequent 

cardinal  Campegins  did  send  me  word  on  the  old  Italian  method  of  reckoning 

that  the  Pope's  holiness  was  departed  the  hours ;  there  is  none  wliatover  as 

out  of  this  present  life,  God  rest  liis  to  Sir  Henry's  punctuation  or  historical 

soul,     viii.    days    past :     what     time  corroction. 

tidings   came  of  the  winning,"  etc.;  ^  JIl.  1821i. 
and   then   proceeds  to  argue  on  the 


430  THE   REIGN   OF   HENEY   VIII.  [A.D. 

deadly  potions,  laid  the  fault,  as  usual,  on  the  Pope's  physicians. 
It  was  insinuated  that  they  had  flattered  him  with  life,  and 
either  cared  not  to  prolong  it,  or  ahridged  it  by  their  drugs. 
When  the  body  was  opened  the  heart  was  covered  with  dark, 
livid  spots,  and  the  spleen  was  wasted.  His  attendant,  who 
had  handed  him  a  draught  of  wine  at  supper-time  the  day 
before  he  expired,  w'as  thrown  into  prison  ;  for  it  was  remem- 
bered that  immediately  after  drinking  it,  the  Vope  had  com- 
plained of  its  bitterness.  Strong  suspicions  of  his  guilt  were 
not  wanting  to  the  credulous  : — the  same  man,  early  the  next 
morning  after  the  death  of  the  Pope,  had  been  descried  by  the 
Papal  guards,  going  out  with  his  hunting  dogs  at  the  gate  of 
the  Vatican.  Others  reported  that  the  Pope  had  died  of  poison 
taken  in  pills  of  bitter  aloe  ;  a  medicine  he  had  been  using 
during  the  week.  Ciacconi,  after  duly  chronicling  all  this 
"  skimble-skamble  stuff,"  descends  at  last  to  the  firm  standing 
ground  of  common  sense :  the  Pope,  he  observes,  died  of  an 
obstinate  fistula,  aggravated  by  a  sudden  return  from  his  villa 
to  Eome,  just  then  more  than  usually  unhealthy,  from  the 
malaria  brought  up  by  a  relaxing  south-west  wind  from  the 
Pontine  Marshes.  This  was  cause  enough  for  the  rai)id  illness 
and  death  of  a  Pope  who  was  never  over  cautious  or  temperate 
in  his  diet.^ 

Clerk's  account  is  probably  the  true  one.  Inclined  to 
sensual  indulgences,  and  subject  to  fits  of  illness,  Leo  had 
experienced  one  of  his  old  attacks  about  the  24th  of  November, 
when  the  tidings  reached  him  of  the  taking  of  Milan,  and  the 
total  defeat  of  the  French  by  the  combined  papal  and  imperial 
troops.  The  result  of  that  \dctory  was  to  wrest  from  the 
bands  of  his  mortal  and  most  formidable  enemy,  "the 
griesliest  nightmare  of  the  Church's  dream  " — Milan,  Pavia, 
Parma,  Piacenza,  Cremona,  "  and  in  a  manner  all  the  duchy 
of  Milan  except  two  or  three  strongholds."  ^  No  victory  so 
signal,  or  so  complete,  had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  any  Pojdc,  since 
the  memory  of  man.  By  it,  the  cause  of  the  French  and 
their  adherents  in  Italy  had  become  hopeless.  For  it,  Leo 
had  long  been  straining  every  nerve  ;  he  had  patiently  endured 
all  sorts  of  indignities  ;  he  had  eluded  by  policy  what  he  could 
not  control  by  open  resistance.  In  addition  to  the  regular 
papal  forces,  his  treasures  had  been  exhausted  by  keeping  in 

'  This  is  confirmed   by   the   con-       App.  7- 
temporaiy  account  of  Doctor  M.  Zorzi,  ^  clerk,  III.  1824. 

quoted  by  Ranke,  Hist,  of  the  Popes, 


1521.]  SICKNESS   OF   LEO   X.  431 

pay  a  large  body  of  Swiss  mercenaries.  Slowly,  laboriously, 
his  designs,  liable  to  be  scattered  by  any  sudden  blast,  had 
grown  and  ripened.  With  feverish  impatience  and  trembling 
anxiety  he,  the  cautious  pontiff,  watched  the  long  and  dreary 
conference  at  Calais.  At  times  he  had  iirmly  persuaded  him- 
self that  Wolsey,  proud  of  displaying  his  unlimited  influence, 
would  reconcile  the  French  King  and  the  Emperor  ;  and  then 
all  the  hopes  which  Leo  had  conceived  of  neutralizing  one 
power  by  the  other,  or  of  employing  the  Emperor's  resentment 
as  an  instrument  for  driving  the  French  out  of  Italy,  would 
have  been  scattered  to  the  winds.  He  fretted  under  the 
indignities  to  which  he  had  been  exposed.  To  determine 
questions  of  heresy  was  the  peculiar  privilege  of  the  Holy 
See  ;  yet  the  Emperor,  instead  of  sending  Luther  to  Eome, 
had  established  the  dangerous  precedent,  and  been  guilty  of 
the  unpardonable  usurpation,  of  conventing  Luther  before 
himself.  What  could  be  more  disastrous  to  the  best  interests 
of  the  Church  than  that  the  chosen  champion  of  Western 
Christendom  should  thus  permit  himself  to  be  led  astray, 
and  hearken  to  evil  counsels  ?  It  had  ever  been  the  incom- 
municable privilege  of  the  Holy  See  to  compose  the  dissensions 
of  temporal  potentates ;  to  interpose  in  their  quarrels ;  to 
rally  them  round  the  throne  of  St.  Peter  ;  to  appoint  them 
their  several  tasks  as  champions  of  the  faith  "  once  for  all 
delivered  to  the  saints."  But  greater  than  popes,  more 
imperious,  more  influential,  more  independent  than  any  pope 
had  been  for  centuries,  here  was  a  cardinal,  a  creature  of 
Leo's  own  creation,  in  a  remote  corner  of  Europe,  dictating, 
mediating,  and  arranging  ;  treating  crowned  heads  and  papal 
nuncios  with  imperiousness  that  never  faltered,  paying  no 
more  regard  to  the  Pope's  wishes  and  opinions  in  these  or 
any  other  matters,  than  if  he  had  been  a  parish  priest  or 
a  Dominican  friar  !  Worse  than  all,  throughout  the  confer- 
ence, Wolsey  had  shown  no  deference  to  that  supremacy, 
which,  more  than  any,  he  was  helping  to  subvert.  What 
could  a  pope — "a  poor  blind  man" — do  in  these  fierce  con- 
troversies ?  They  were  no  longer  to  be  settled  by  texts  of 
Scripture  or  citations  from  the  Canon  law.  They  demanded 
political  skill  and  experience ;  tact,  to  be  acquired  only  by 
those  who,  like  Wolsey,  held  in  their  own  hands  the  strings 
of  all  state  intelligence,  knew  to  a  fraction  tlic  number  and 
strength  of  every  army  and  navy  in  Europe,  the  designs  of 
every   monarch   whose    designs   were   worth   knowing — their 


432  THE  REIGN  OF  HEXRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

movements,  their  finances,  their  debts,  their  difficulties,  and 
their  temptations. 

But  in  truth  Leo,  never  wanting  in  penetration,  must  have 
felt  that  the  Papacy  was  fast  sinking  into  a  conventional 
position  most  dangerous  to  all  institutions ;  that  men  were 
ceasing  to  regard  it  as  the  chosen  guardian  and  representative 
of  sacred  truths  essential  to  their  welfare,  and  learning  to 
tolerate  it  as  a  decorous  and  agreeable  appendage  to  the 
political  and  social  necessities  of  Christendom — as  a  centre 
round  which  it  was  convenient  for  that  system  to  revolve,  not 
a  pivot  essential  to  its  existence ;  an  emblem  of  respectability, 
good  if  it  could  be  had,  not  by  any  means  indispensable  if  it 
could  not.  So  long  as  kings,  or  cardinals,  or  prime  ministers 
preserved  a  show  of  respect  for  the  Holy  See,  they  were  acquitted 
in  their  own  consciences,  and  in  those  of  others,  of  any  secret 
insult  or  oj)en  violence  they  might  offer  it.  Late  events  had 
contributed  more  than  ever  to  eclipse  the  Papacy  in  the 
estimation  of  mankind,  and  Leo  was  j)owerless  to  prevent 
them. 

Now,  in  an  auspicious  moment,  by  a  sudden  and  unexpected 
turn  of  good  fortune,  his  aspirations  had  been  realized ; — the 
expulsion  of  the  French  from  the  north  of  Italy  was  accom- 
jDlished,  and  all  who  had  espoused  the  French  cause  shared 
its  humiliation.    The  result,  so  long  delayed,  so  much  desired, 
so  fickle  and  so  fugitive,  was  at  last  within  his  grasp.     At  his 
Manlian  villa  he  received  the  intelligence  of  the  triumphant 
entry  of  his  troops  into  Milan.     All  the  French — so  ran  the 
news  — had  either  been  made  prisoners,  or  had  taken  to  flight. 
In  the  moment  of  exultation  he  declared  that  he  had  never 
experienced   greater  joy  in  his  life ;    even  the  news  of  his 
elevation  to  the  papacy  had  not  been  half  so  welcome.     He 
beheld  in  imagination  his  enemies  prostrate  at  his  feet ;  his 
friends    enriched  with   the   spoils    distributed  with   his   own 
hands.     Thefeux  dejoye  of  the  Swiss,  the  acclamations  of  the 
crowd,  rent  the  air.     Restless  and  excited  groups  hurried  to 
and   fro   in  the   delnium   of    the   hour.     Regardless   of  his 
strength  and  failing  health — for  he  was  corpulent  and  troubled 
by  an  obstinate  internal  complaint — late  into  the  night  the 
Pope  paced  backwards  and  forwards  at  the  open  windows  of 
his  apartment,  heated  by  the  tumult,  kindling  with  the  excite- 
ment of  all  around  him.     Seven  days  after,  his  schemes  and 
his   hopes   had  died  with   him.     "  Every   man   here,"   says 
Clerk,  writing  upon  the  occasion  to  Wolsey,  "  beginneth  to 


1521.]  STRUGGLE   FOR   THE   PAPACY.  433 

shift  for  himself,  because  of  such  garboyle  and  business  as 
out  of  all  order  is  like  to  be  committed  here  in  this  city  until 
such  time  as  we  be  provided  of  another  Pope.  I  beseech 
Almighty  God  send  us  one  to  His  pleasure,"  With  such 
frosty  expressions  of  their  sorrow,  men  resigned  themselves 
to  their  loss,  and  turned  their  thoughts  towards  Leo's 
successor. 

Nothing  at  that  moment  could  have  been  more  inopportune 
for  French  influence  in  Italy  than  the  loss  of  Milan.  The 
Emperor  was  predominant  at  Rome.  Resolved  to  improve 
the  occasion,  Don  Manuel,  the  Spanish  ambassador,  wrote  at 
once  to  Naples,  ordering  the  Neapolitan  troops  to  be  ready 
for  marching.  Such  was  the  way  in  which  the  freedom  of 
election,  whether  of  Popes  or  Emperors,  was  secured  in  those 
days.  Before  the  news  of  Leo's  death  could  be  widely  known, 
the  Spaniard  had  taken  the  precaution  to  fill  his  house  at 
Rome  with  soldiers.  Followed  by  his  attendants  armed  with 
swords,  he  visited  the  different  cardinals.  He  made  solemn 
speeches  and  tedious  visits ;  he  assured  the  cardinals  that 
the  Emperor  was  the  natural  protector  of  the  Church  and  the 
watchful  guardian  of  their  interests.  The  cardinals  recipro- 
cated his  courtesy  :  they  listened  respectfully  to  his  argu- 
ments ;  thronged  his  ante-room ;  requested  to  be  favoured 
with  the  names  of  the  imperial  candidates.  He  gave  them 
the  names  of  a  dozen — all  good  imperalists.  For  any  one 
included  in  the  list  they  might  vote  and  welcome ;  travel 
beyond  it,  they  must  expect  the  Emperor's  displeasure.  Why 
say  more  ?  In  that  list  any  one  who  is  at  all  acquainted  with 
tlie  sentiments  of  Don  Manuel  will  be  quite  certain  that  the 
name  of  Wolsey  was  not  found. 

Leo  died  on  the  2nd  of  December,  yet  Campeggio,  hitherto 
loudest  in  his  professions  of  unalterable  attachment,  did  not 
find  it  necessary  to  apprize  Wolsey  of  the  fact  until  thirteen 
days  after.  Then  he  wrote  to  say  that  there  would  be  many 
candidates  for  the  Papacy,  and  a  full  attendance  of  cardinals. 
To  the  chance  of  Wolsey  being  added  to  the  number  of  pro- 
spective popes,  Campeggio  m.ide  no  allusion.  The  list  was 
hirge  enough  already;  too  large  for  Campeggio's  hopes  or 
wishes.^  "  In  most  cases,"  wrote  Don  Manuel  to  the  Emperor, 
"two  or  three  cardinals  endeavour  to  obtain  the  election;  now 
all  aspire  to  it."     Tlie  news  must  have  been  generally  known 

'  III.  1869.     Campeggio  himself  was  a  candidate,  bat  never  obtained  more 
than  seven  votes. 

VOL.  1.  2  V 


434  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHT.  [A.D. 

in  Western  Europe  within  a  fortnight  after  Leo's  decease.  It 
was  certainly  known  to  the  Emperor  before  the  15th  of 
December.  On  that  day  Margaret  of  Savoy  sent  the  news 
from  Oudenarde  to  Wolsey,  adding  that,  if  he  desired  it,  she 
would  gladly  write  to  the  Emperor  in  his  behalf.  She  was 
generous  enough  to  add  that  she  thought  she  should  be  doing 
a  kindness  to  her  nephew  by  assisting  in  Wolsey's  promotion.^ 
As  Charles  also  wrote  on  the  same  day,  from  the  same  place, 
it  will  be  thought  that,  had  she"been  sincere  in  her  professions, 
she  would  have  taken  time  by  the  forelock,  and  consulted  with 
the  Emperor  at  once.^  Charles,  in  his  letter,^  avoids  all 
allusion  to  the  Papacy.  But  the  day  after  he  wrote  to  the 
Bishop  of  Elna,  his  ambassador  in  England,  instructing  him 
to  inform  the  Cardinal  and  his  royal  master  of  Leo's  decease. 
"You  shall  say,"  he  continues,  "to  Mons.  the  Legate,  that 
as  we  always  keep  his  advancement  and  exaltation  in  our 
good  remembrance,  and  retain  a  faithful  memory  of  the 
promise  we  made  to  him  at  Bruges  touching  the  Papacy,  in 
conformity  therewith  and  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  same, 
we  are  resolved  to  assist  him  to  the  best  of  our  power,  both  in 
this  affair  and  in  all  others  which  may  concern  him.  You 
shall,  therefore,  request  him  to  be  good  enough  to  let  us  know 
his  wishes,  and  what  are  his  inclinations  that  way ;  and  we 
will  exert  ourselves  very  willingly  in  his  behalf,  and  spare  no 
pains.  However,  we  are  of  opinion  that  the  affair  will  not 
soon  be  settled,  and  he  has  already  a  very  good  chance  of 
success.  Had  we  been  much  nearer  Italy  than  we  are,  and 
as  we  should  have  liked  to  have  been,  we  could  then  have 
shown  him  more  effectually  what  we  would  have  done  for 
him."  In  the  end  he  charged  his  ambassador  to  employ  all 
his  dexterity  in  this  matter,  in  order  to  gain  the  Cardinal's 
good  will ;  for  he  made  no  doubt  that  Francis  would  assail 
Wolsey  with  all  sorts  of  fair  offers,  though  it  is  notorious,  he 
says,  that  the  French  Mng  can  render  him  no  effectual 
assistance. 

Nothing  could  apparently  be  more  cordial,  or  more  con- 
descending ;  and  so  gracious  an  intimation  lost  nothing  in 
its  transmission  through  the  Bishop  of  Elna.  At  that  con- 
juncture it  was  more  than  ever  necessary  for  Charles  to  secure 

III.  1868.  and  discussed  the  matter  before  the 

*  It  is,  I  think,  highly  improbable  15th. 
that  both  Margaret  and  Charles  should  *  III.  1867.  * 

not  have  known  of  the  Pope's  death, 


1521.]  WOLSEY'S   CANDIDATURE.  435 

the  good  offices  of  the  Cardinal.  He  was  in  great  distress  ; 
he  had  no  means  to  prosecute  the  war  against  France.  The 
advantages  he  had  lately  acquired  in  the  north  of  Italy  were 
in  danger  of  being  lost  by  his  inability  to  follow  up  his  con- 
quests. In  short,  he  wanted  a  new  loan  from  England  of 
200,000  ducats,  and  a  body  of  3,000  foot — such  was  the 
phrase;  in  other  words,  the  pay  of  3,000  footmen,  besides 
the  ducats  already  demanded.  These  troops  were  to  be 
raised  by  the  Emperor  and  the  Lady  Margaret,  and  employed 
at  their  discretion.^ 

And  what,  it  will  be  asked,  were  Wolsey's  feelings  at  this 
event  ?  They  who  have  been  accustomed  to  judge  of  him  by 
popular  traditions  will  be  ready  with  an  answer.  They  will 
entertain  no  doubt  that,  as  personal  aggrandizement  was  the 
ruling  motive  of  his  actions,  the  Papacy  must  have  offered 
him  irresistible  attractions.  Happily,  we  know  the  thoughts 
of  those  who  had  the  best  opportunities  of  observing  him,  and 
the  least  inclination  to  flatter  him.  They  are  recorded  in  the 
following  extract  from  the  Spanish  ambassador's  despatch  to 
the  Emperor.^ 

"  Most  sacred  Caesarean  and  Catholic  Majesty. 

*  *  *  "On  the  16th  day  of  this  month,  after  dining  at 

Richmond,  where  the  King  and  the  Cardinal  were  present,  tlie  Cardinal 
informed  me  that  he  had  received  letters  from  the  king  of  France,  the 
originals  of  which  he  showed  me  ;  and  the  contents  of  which  1  will 
hereafter  submit  to  your  Majesty.  He  told  us,  besides,  that  he  had 
received  a  letter  from  the  English  ambassador  in  France/'  informing  him 
of  the  death  of  the  Pope,  and  that  cardinals  Sion  and  De  Medici  had  left 
the  camp  and  gone  to  Rome  ;  that  the  army  of  your  Majesty  and  of  the 
Pope  had  been  broken  up,  and  the  affairs  of  the  French  in  Italy  had 
returned  to  their  former  channel.  All  this  the  said  ambassador  had 
written  to  him  on  the  information  of  the  king  of  France.  The  king  of 
England  is  troubled  at  the  news  beyond  measure,  and  is  in  a  great  state  of 
alarm.  Two  things,  he  says,  must  be  provided  for  with  the  utmost  speed : 
1st,  that  no  harm  befall  the  kingdom  of  Naples  *  *  2ndly, 
that  due  provision  be  made  for  the  election  of  such  a  Pope  as  is  devoted 
to  your  Majesty  and  the  king  of  England  ;  and  he  must  be  one  on  whom 
you  can  both  rely  for  advancing  your  interests.  For  success  in  these  two 
points  the  King  and  the  Cardinal  consider  that  the  integrality  of  your 
Majesty's  army  in  Italy  is  of  great  importance,  both  for  the  defence  of  the 
said  kingdom  and  for  securing  the  election. 

"As  to  the  person  to  be  chosen  for  the  Papacy,  the  King  is  fully 

'  See  III.   18G2,  1891 ;  and  com-  to  England,      Mon.    Ilabsh.,   p.    52j3. 

pare  No.  1905.  On  the  otlier  hand,  Marrjaret's  lefcteV, 

^  Mon.  Hab8b.,p.  507.     This  inter-  dated   the    ir)lli,    rcucihcd   London  en 

view  took  place  on  the  IGth,  tho  date  the    ISth.     'I'lio    Emperor  was  in   no 

of  the  Emi>er<jr'H  letter.     Tlint  letter  unnecessary  haste  to  i'lillil  his  promises. 

did  not  reach  the  Bishop's  hands  until  '  This    letter    from  Eitzwilliam  is 

the  24th  ;   that  is,  eight  days,  a  very  not  now  to  be  found, 
long  interval  in  coming  from  Ghent 


436  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

inclined  and  resolved  in  favor  of  the  most  reverend  cardinal  of  York.  He 
is  desirous,  more  than  I  can  express,  that  your  Majesty  should  concur  in 
this  opinion  ;  and  in  order  that  it  may  take  eifect  he  will  employ  his  power 
to  the  utmost,  and  will  omit  nothing  that  may  conduce  to  that  end.  For 
this  reason  he  has  resolved  to  send  a  person  (Pace)  to  Rome,  with  letters 
(the  tenor  of  which  I  will  explain  hereafter)  to  induce  and  persuade  the 
cardinals  to  give  their  votes  to  the  cardinal  of  York,  and  condescend  to 
the  election  of  the  same. 

"But  as  the  king  of  England  most  constantly  affirms  that  he  does  not 
intend  to  attempt  anything  Avithout  the  knowledge  and  advice  of  your 
Majesty,  with  whom  he  is  united  in  fortune  and  affection,  he  does  not 
propose  to  send  his  ambassador  to  Rome,  in  the  first  instance,  but  to 
your  Majesty,  to  take  your  advice  upon  his  instructions,  and  follow  your 
directions." 

The  ambassador  then  proceeds  to  say  that,  as  in  the  conduct 
of  this  negociation  great  caution  would  be  required,  and  in 
the  event  of  Wolsey  not  being  elected  it  would  be  desirable 
that  the  choice  should  fall  on  Cardinal  Medici,  the  King  had 
prepared  two  letters — one  to  be  used  in  favour  of  Wolsey,  the 
other  in  favour  of  De  Medici,  if  Wolsey's  advancement  proved 
hopeless.  He  had  also  requested  the  Emperor  to  write  letters 
of  a  similar  tenor,  and  give  the  necessary  instructions  to  Don 
Manuel,  his  ambassador  at  Eome,  to  carry  out  their  wishes. 
To  show  how  much  the  King  was  bent  on  securing  the  Papacy 
for  Wolsey,  the  ambassador  informed  his  master  that  Henry 
had  resolved  to  send  his  own  secretary,  Kichard  Pace,  "  as 
if,"  to  use  his  own  expression,  "  he  sent  his  very  heart."  As 
Pace,  he  adds,  is  in  great  favour  with  the  Venetians,  it  is 
thought  that  he  will  be  of  great  use  in  detaching  them  from 
the  French.  *' The  secretary,"  he  adds,  "has  accepted  this 
task,  as  he  hopes  he  can  be  of  service  to  your  Majesty  ;  and 
I  dare  assure  your  Majesty  that,  unless  I  am  mistaken  in  the 
man,  there  is  no  better  imperialist.  I  think,  besides,  that  if 
the  most  -reverend  cardinal  of  York,  by  obtaining  the  Papacy, 
or  by  any  other  cause,  should  not  continue  much  longer  about 
the  King's  person,  Pace  will  attain  the  highest  post  with  his 
master.  I  wished  to  explain  all  this,  that  your  Majesty  might 
understand  what  kind  of  a  man  you  have  to  deal  with,  and  be 
ruled  accordingly." 

The  ambassador  then  details  his  conversation  on  this 
occasion  with  Wolsey.  "He  assured  the  King,"  he  says,  "in 
my  presence,  with  the  most  solemn  oaths  and  protestations, 
that  he  had  no  intention  to  accept  this  election,  unless  his 
master  and  your  Majesty  should  consider  that  in  so  doing  he 
could  best  promote  the  welfare  and  honor  of  both  of  you.  If 
it  appeared  to  your  Majesties  that  he  was  a  person  who  could 


1521.]  WOLSEY'S   CANDIDATURE.  437 

be  serviceable  to  you,  and  one  in  whom  both  of  you  might 
repose  confidence,  he  would  not  shrink  from  any  labor ; 
asseverating  that  the  chief  benefit  and  emolument  he  expected 
to  reap  from  this  honor  was  to  contribute  to  your  Majesties' 
exaltation. —  Here  the  King  solemnly  protested  on  his  royal 
word  that  you  might  trust  the  Cardinal  implicitly.^ — And  so," 
continued  he,  "your  Majesties,  like  father  and  son,  shall 
dispose  of  that  see,  its  authority  and  power,  as  if  they  were 
yom*  own,  and  give  laws  to  the  rest  of  the  world  !  " 

"  To  tell  you  my  own  opinion,"  adds  the  ambassador  in 
confidence,  "I  do  not  believe  that  the  most  reverend  Cardinal 
has  any  great  expectation  of  succeeding,  although  he  does  not 
entirely  despair.  But  he  evidently  contemplates  two  results  : 
one  is,  that  he  will  be  able  to  ascertain  your  Majesty's  real 
sentiments  in  this  matter,  how  far  your  Majesty  is  to  be 
trusted  in  case  of  need,  and  what  faith  he  may  repose  in  your 
promises ;  seeing  that  De  la  Eoche  and  I,  last  year,  promised 
him  your  Majesty's  support  at  this  election — an  offer  he 
refused  at  the  time,  but  now  he  reminds  us  of  it.  In  the 
other  case,  if,  with  your  Majesty's  active  co-operation,  success 
should  prove  impossible  on  this  occasion,  he  will  be  enabled 
to  put  matters  in  a  good  train  for  the  next  opportunity.  I 
speak  this  as  of  myself,  and  it  is  my  own  inference  only ;  not 
but  what  I  have  said  has  some  foundation  in  words  he  has 
casually  dropped.  I  doubt  not  but  that,  if  the  Cardinal  were 
fully  satisfied  that  your  Majesty  would  really  favor  him,  he 
would  use  his  power  to  the  utmost  with  the  King  in  fm'thering 
your  Majesty's  interests,  inasmuch  as  even  now  he  is  most 
zealous  in  fostering  and  encouraging  his  master's  affection  for 
you,  and  in  exciting  his  indignation  against  the  French  ;  so 
that  whatever  a  Frenchman  writes  is  considered  no  better 
than  falsehood.         *         *         *         London,  19  Dec.  1521."  ^ 

Charles  was  in  some  perplexity.  The  writer  had  warned 
him  that  if  he  had  determined  on  the  election  of  any  other 
candidate  than  Wolsey,  the  greatest  caution  and  dexterity 
would  be  needed  to  avoid  the  resentment  and  blind  the 
suspicions  of  the  Cardinal.^  Had  he  believed  that  his  imperial 
master  was  sincere  in  proffering  his  services  to  Wolsey  on  this 

'  Either  there  is  eome  Blight  con-  maturissime  debet  rem  iBtam  tractare 

fusion    in   the    original,    or  the    King  et    uti    magna    dexteritate,    ut    luiic 

suddenly  breaks  in  with  his  assevera-  Cardiuali  possit  Batisfieri,  et  si  alius 

tion,  interrupting  Wolsey's  speech.  fuerit  eligendus,  non  perdatur."     Bp. 

*  III.  18«4.  oi  Elua,  ut  supra,  p.  blO. 

•  '*  Nunc     vero    majestas    vcstra 


438  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIU.  [A.D. 

occasion,  or  that  he  had  not  in  fact  ah-eady  decided  on  some 
other  candidate,  this  warning  and  the  general  tenor  of  his 
despatch  would  have  been  out  of  place.  Nor,  indeed,  could 
any  one  who  reflected  a  little  on  the  subject  entertain  much 
doubt  on  that  head.  Was  it  probable  that,  if  Charles  could 
influence  the  election,  he  would  be  so  blind  to  his  own  interests 
as  to  raise  an  English  Cardinal  to  the  papal  throne  instead  of 
a  staunch  imperialist,  or  prefer  an  uncertain  and  imperious 
friend  to  a  humble  and  responsible  subject  ?  Against  such  a 
temptation  his  most  solemn  promise  was  worth  nothing ;  nor 
would  he  have  permitted  it  to  stand  in  the  way  of  his  own 
interests  for  a  moment.  To  make  promises  and  to  break 
them  as  easily,  to  incur  the  most  solemn  obligations  without 
any  serious  intent  of  fulfilling  them,  was  no  unusual  thing 
with  the  Emperor.  At  that  very  moment,  when  he  had  bound 
himself  by  a  much  more  sacred  vow  to  marry  the  Princess 
Mary,  he  was  meditating  a  breach  of  it,  and  dictating  instruc- 
tions to  De  la  Sauch,  whom  he  was  sending  to  the  King  of 
Portugal  to  explain  away  his  obligations  to  the  English 
Princess.  Was  a  promise  to  a  cardinal,  whom  he  always 
suspected  and  sometimes  hated,  likely  to  be  more  binding  on 
the  Emperor's  conscience  ?  Neither  at  this  nor  at  any  other 
time  had  he  any  serious  intention  of  promoting  Wolsey  to  the 
Papacy.  Notwithstanding  all  his  professions  of  zeal  and 
sincerity,  it  is  questionable  whether  he  ever  wrote  to  his 
ambassador  at  Piome  in  favour  of  Wolsey ;  if  he  did,  no  notice 
of  such  a  letter  is  to  be  found  in  Don  Manuel's  despatches — 
and  they  are  not  scanty — nor  did  the  imperial  ambassador 
exert  his  influence  in  Wolsey's  behalf.^  He  had  arranged  his 
tactics  already,  and  had  given  the  Emperor  due  notice  of  his 
movements. 

On  the  24th  the  Bishop  of  Elna  wrote  again  to  the 
Emperor,  describing  a  second  interview  he  had  had  with  the 
Cardinal.  The  Bishop  had  assured  Wolsey  that  his  master 
would  employ  all  his  influence  to  promote  his  election,  and 
could  only  have  wished  to  have  been  nearer  Italy  for  the 
welfare  of  the  Cardinal  and  the  good  of  Christendom.  "  He 
heard  all  I  had  to  say,"  continues  the  Bishop,  "  attentively, 
and  received  it   gratefully;    and   he   thanked  your  Majesty 

'  Charles  wrote  on  Dec.  28  to  the  whether  the  letter  was  ever  sent,  or 

King  and  the  Cardinal,  professing  to  sent    in    time   to   be    of    use,    is   the 

send  them  the  copy  of  a  letter  which  question, 
he  had  written  to  Don  Manuel ;  but 


1521.]  WOLSEY'S   EXTRAORDINARY   PROPOSAL.  439 

with  such  professions  of  humility  as  if  he  had  been  elected 
Pope  already  through  your  instrumentality.  Perceiving  that 
your  Majesty  had  not  forgotten  your  promise  at  Bruges,  he 
was  in  great  hopes  of  success,  and  began  to  repeat  to  me 
Pace's  commission,  of  which  I  wrote  to  you  by  the  last  post, 
adding  one  thing  at  which  I  was  greatly  astonished ;  and, 
however  strange  it  may  seem,  I  will  repeat  it  to  your  Majesty. 
He  said  that,  to  secure  the  election,  which  he  desired  for  no 
earthly  reason  except  for  the  King's  exaltation  and  yours,  it 
would  be  xevj  important  that  your  Majesty's  army  now  in 
Italy  should  advance  to  Eome  ;  and  then,  if,  after  liberal 
monition  and  offers,  the  Cardinals  continued  refractory,  they 
should  be  compelled  to  elect  him  by  force  in  order  that  the 
French  faction  might  be  excluded,  and  Naples  and  Sicily  be 
saved,"  He  added,  that  if  100,000  ducats  were  required  to 
accomplish  this  object,  Wolsey  had  told  him  they  would  be 
forthcoming ;  that  the  King  of  France  reckoned  on  having 
twenty-two  cardinals  at  his  disposal ; — "  from  which  I  in- 
ferred," says  the  Bishop,  "that  the  king  of  France  had  made 
him  an  offer  of  his  votes  and  his  assistance." 

Whether  Wolsey  was  serious  in  this  extraordinary  pro- 
posal, so  much  at  variance  with  the  popular  notions  of  the 
freedom  of  papal  elections,  or  whether  he  urged  it  as  a  touch- 
stone of  the  Emperor's  sincerity,  my  readers  must  decide  for 
themselves.  If  he  spoke  seriously,  the  reckless  sincerity  with 
which  he  expressed  his  disregard  for  the  conclave,  and  his 
total  disbelief  in  its  independence,  are  remarkable.  The  Pope 
as  a  temporal  sovereign  had  ceased,  in  Wolsey 's  estimation, 
to  be  more  than  an  instrument  for  securing  certain  political 
advantages.  But,  as  the  Head  of  the  Church,  his  authority 
was  still  paramount  in  spiritual  matters.  He  would  have 
been  shocked,  as  much  as  any  of  his  contemporaries,  at  the 
propagation  of  opinions  derogatory  to  the  Pope's  ecclesiastical 
supremacy,  had  such  acts  of  insubordination  been  prominently 
brought  before  his  notice.  But  he  had  seldom  been  accus- 
tomed to  regard  the  Papacy  in  that  light.  Immersed  in 
politics,  and  engrossed  by  diplomacy,  it  was  only  the  political 
side  of  the  Papal  orbit  which  presented  itself  to  Wolscy's 
vision.  To  him  the  Pope  was  little  better  than  a  temporal 
ruler,  a  unit,  by  no  means  the  most  important,  in  those 
combinations  of  which  the  chief  factors  were  the  King,  the 
Emperor,  and  their  formidable  rival.  The  temporal  co-opera- 
tion of  the  Pope  was  to  be  secured  like  that  of  any  other 


440  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

temporal  power — freely,  if  possible ;  if  not,  by  force.  Doubtless 
Wolsey  would  have  made  little  scruple  of  handling  his  cardinal 
brothers  as  roughly  and  unceremoniously  as  he  proposed. 
How  could  he  respect  those  of  whose  venalit}^  he  had  such 
overwhelming  evidence  ?  Was  dictation  backed  by  arms  more 
culpable  than  intrigue  supported  by  bribery '?  And  though 
the  Bishop  of  Elna  professed  to  be  shocked  at  his  disregard  of 
the  conventional  independence  of  the  conclave,  he  forgot  that 
only  a  minute  before  he  had  expressed  his  master's  regret  for 
being  no  nearer  Italy,  that  he  might  have  personally  inter- 
posed his  authority  with  the  cardinals,  and  have  corrected 
the  Electors  according  to  his  wishes.  He  was  ignorant, 
perhaps,  at  the  date  of  his  astonishment,  that  the  Neaj^olitan 
army  had  already  received  orders  to  march,  if  the  conclave 
proved  refractory,  and  that  Civita  Vecchia  was  filled  with 
armed  Neapolitan  galleys  watching  the  course  of  the  election. 
Though  Wolsey  was  not  the  only  person  who  thought  that 
cardinals  could  be  bribed  or  intimidated,  he  was  the  only 
person  who  had  the  honesty  and  the  boldness  to  avow  it. 

The  cardinals  should  have  entered  the  conclave  on  the 
18th  of  December,  but  the  time  was  delayed  until  the  Cardinal 
of  Ivrea,  who  had  been  taken  prisoner  on  his  journey  from 
Savoy,  had  regained  his  liberty.  In  the  interval  Eome 
became  the  prey  of  every  intriguer.  By  the  death  of  the  Pope 
not  only  the  Church  lost  its  spiritual  head,  but  the  States  of 
the  Church  their  temporal  ruler.  The  conclave  was  divided 
into  two  factions,  headed  by  Cardinal  Colonna  and  Cardinal 
De  Medici.  So  obstinate  was  the  strife,  the  parties  so  equally 
balanced,  that  there  seemed  little  probability  of  any  accommo- 
dation between  them.  Out  of  forty-nine  or  fifty  cardinals  De 
Medici  counted  on  fifteen  ^  votes ;  with  the  rest  he  was  ex- 
tremely unpopular,  for  his  power  was  dreaded,  and  his 
unlimited  influence  over  the  late  Pope  was  remembered  with 
some  resentment.  Next  to  the  Colonnas,  the  Soderini,  of 
whom  the  Cardinal  of  Volterra  was  both  the  most  eminent  and 
the  most  acrimonious,  signalized  themselves  by  their  animosity 
against  De  Medici.  "  This  Cardinal,"  says  Clerk,  speaking  of 
Volterra,  "  is  a  stout  man  and  a  wise,  and  a  well  spoken,  and 
a  man  of  good  authority  and  reputation  here  in  this  court ; 
and  now  at  his  coming,  perceiving  a  great  number  of  these 
cardinals  sore  bent  to  make  the  cardinal  De  Medici  Pope,  first 

'   Don  Manuel  says  18  ;  then,  in  a       says  15  ;   thus  confirming  the  accuracy 
despatch   of   a   subsequent   date,    he       of  the  English  ambassador,  Clerk. 


1521.]  THE   CONCLAVE.  441 

did  severally  solicit  each  of  them  to  the  contrarj',  declaring 
against  the  said  Cardinal  that  if  he  should  he  Pope,  that 
should  mar  their  reckoning  to  have  no  new  Pope,  for  he  had 
been  Pope  now  a  long  season ;  and  how  that  they  have  had 
good  experience  what  manner  a  man  he  is ;  with  many  evil 
words  of  the  Cardinal's  bastardy,  tyranny,  and  how  that  he 
had  already  undone  the  Church."  ^ 

De  Medici,  it  was  clear,  could  not  succeed.  It  was  equally 
clear  that  no  other  candidate  could  be  elected  without  his 
consent.  This  gave  Clerk,  the  English  ambassador  at  Eome, 
on  one  side,  and  Don  Manuel,  on  the  other,  an  opportunity  of 
interesting  De  Medici  in  behalf  of  their  respective  candidates  ; 
but  either  Don  Manuel  was  the  better  diplomatist,  or  the 
offers  he  made  were  more  tempting.  Clerk  did  his  best  to 
insinuate  the  great  merits  of  Wolse}^,  and  obtain  from  De 
Medici  some  hint  of  encouragement  and  support.  But  the 
v/ily  Italian  pretended  not  to  understand,  and  turned  a  deaf 
ear  to  his  intimations.  He  tried  his  hand  with  Colonna. 
"  Sir,"  said  Clerk,^  "  I  do  perceive  that  you  be  thus  right  weU 
minded  towards  cardinal  De  Medici,  that  at  the  least  wise  you 
would  be  contented  to  do  for  any  friend  of  his  so  that  the 
person  had  qualities  thereafter.  May  I  be  so  bold  as  to  axe 
of  you  what  friend  of  the  cardinal  De  Medici's,  being  qualified, 
is  there  in  this  college  upon  whom  you  may  find  in  your  heart 
to  bestow  your  favour?"  ''He  answered  me,"  says  Clerk, 
"that  there  were  divers  aged  men,  and  each  of  them  were 
very  meet  for  the  room;"  and  he  concluded  by  saying  that 
he  would  so  endeavour  to  control  the  election  that  he  might 
come  to  this  feast  and  marriage  once  again ;  "  whereas,  if 
they  were  to  elect  a  young  man,  the  Pope  might  survive 
them  all. 

To  discover  his  intentions  Clerk  jn'oposed  Cardinal  Cam- 
peggio.  Colonna  made  no  open  objection,  but  bade  him 
consult  with  De  Medici.  Pieturning  to  De  Medici,  Clerk 
exhorted  him  not  to  be  too  precise  in  standing  out  for  one  of 
his  own  nominees,  afe  Colonna  was  resolved  to  oppose  him  ; 
"  seeing  that  I  knew  right  well  that  there  were  other  persons 
right  well  qualified,  in  whom  he  might  as  well  trust  as  in  any 
man ;  " — of  course  meaning  "VVolsey.  Campeggio's  name  was 
only  a  stalking-horse  ;  no  one  was  more  distasteful  to  De 
Medici. 

The   disorders   rapidly   increased  in    the    States    of    the 

>  III.  p.  805.  «  111.  p.  807. 


442  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

Church,  and  the  election  could  be  delayed  no  longer.  On 
Friday,  St.  John's  Day,  the  27th  of  December,  the  cardinals 
entered  the  conclave.  Some  little  difficulty  was  raised  at  first 
as  to  the  jjlace  and  its  guardianship).  Volterra  complained 
that  armed  galleys  of  the  Imperialists  had  filled  the  harbour 
of  Civita  Vecchia,  and  that  500  of  the  late  Pope's  Swiss  guard 
had  been  stationed  in  the  Palace  where  De  Medici  lodged, 
eager  to  advance  his  claims  out  of  love  to  their  late  master.^ 
The  danger  apprehended  from  the  Swiss  was  neutralized  by 
raising  a  thousand  foot,  and  committing  the  custody  of  the 
conclave  to  the  combined  troops.  The  cardinals  assembled 
in  the  forenoon  at  the  Basilica  of  St.  Peter,  in  the  chapel  of 
Sixtus  IV.  Mass  was  sung  by  Colonna ;  after  a  Latin  sermon 
they  proceeded,  thirty-nine  in  number,  to  the  conclave,  singing 
in  procession  Veni  Creator.  Here  each  took  possession  of  his 
cell.  These  cells,  sixteen  feet  long  by  ten  feet  broad,  were 
arranged  in  a  chapel  in  the  Pope's  palace.  This  done,  each 
went  to  dinner  where  his  fancy  led  him.  Two  hours  before 
nightfall,  the  whole  body  met  again  in  a  chapel  within  the 
conclave,  and  after  the  bull  of  Pope  Julius  against  simoniacal 
practices  had  been  read,  every  cardinal,  in  the  presence  of 
the  foreign  ambassadors,  took  his  corporal  oath  upon  the 
Holy  Evangelists  to  observe  the  bull  to  the  best  of  his  abilities. 
The  ambassadors  and  others  were  then  summoned  to  their 
posts.  Of  the  wards,  which  were  three  in  number,  the  out- 
most was  held  by  the  Eoman  lords  and  nobility ;  the  second 
or  middle  ward,  by  the  ambassadors  ;  the  third,  nearest  the 
assembled  cardinals,  was  committed  to  the  charge  of  certain 
prelates,  who  had  likewise  in  their  keeping  the  keys  of  the 
conclave. 

Of  the  number  of  the  ambassadors  thus  engaged,  and  who 
took  up  their  residence  for  the  time  in  the  palace,  were  those 
of  Hungary,  Portugal,  and  England ;  among  them  Clerk,  to 
whom  we  are  indebted  for  these  curious  particulars.  Don 
Manuel,  the  Spanish  ambassador,  was  not  present.  Clerk 
assigns  advanced  age  as  a  reason  for  his  absence.  A  better 
excuse  is  extant  under  his  own  hand.  He  had  already  caused 
offence  by  personally  canvassing  the  Electors,  and  was  there- 
fore given  to  understand  that  his  presence  would  be  construed 
into  an  infraction  of  the  freedom  of  the  conclave.  Besides, 
his  market  was  already  made,  and  he  was  not  solicitous  to 
avail  himself  of  a  privilege  more  onerous  than  useful.   Ascanio 

*  See  Hadriani  Annal.,  p.  146. 


.1521.]  THE   CONCLAVE.  443 

Colonrica,  the  Bishop  of  Algieri,  and  Eiikenvoert,  zealous 
imperialists,  were  his  active  and  efficient  substitutes. 

Outside  the  walls  of  the  conclave  all  was  restlessness  and 
intense  anxiety  to  catch,  if  possible,  the  faintest  hint  of  the 
proceedings  within.  Every  plausible  rumour,  however  false, 
was  eagerly  caught  up,  and  spread  like  wildfire  through  an 
excited  populace,  whose  sole  occupation  from  daybreak  to 
night  was  to  assemble  about  the  doors  of  the  palace,  and 
speculate  on  the  chances  of  the  election.  Friends,  partizans, 
and  relatives  of  expectant  Popes,  now  elated,  now  dejected,  as 
their  hopes  rose  and  fell  by  some  vain  report,  pressed  to  the 
gates  or  scanned  the  windows,  watching  for  some  sign  from 
those  within  of  the  coming  decision.  Not  less  interested,  but 
for  very  different  motives,  idle  multitudes  stood  on  tiptoe  to 
catch  the  name  of  the  favourite  cardinal,  that,  according  to 
usage,  they  might  anticipate  their  fellows  in  plundering  his 
house  and  ransacking  his  property,  an  offence  tolerated  and 
overlooked  in  the  general  joy  and  licence  of  the  election.  The 
creaking  of  a  door  on  its  hinges,  or  the  opening  of  a  window, 
shot  through  the  mass  like  a  spark  of  electricity.  A  large 
body  of  troops  stationed  in  front  of  the  palace  protected  the 
conclave  and  kept  the  excited  multitude  at  bay,  which  other- 
wise would  have  stormed  the  joalace,  and  dispersed  the 
affrighted  cardinals. 

Within  all  was  silence.  No  noise  of  their  proceedings 
could  pierce  the  triple  fold  of  prelates,  ambassadors,  "  lords 
and  barons,"  who  kept  guard  in  the  three  wards  with  jealous 
ears  and  watchful  eyes.  No  letters  or  tokens  were  allowed  to 
pass  ;  meats,  pots,  and  platters — all  things,  in  short,  by  which 
intelligence  could  either  be  conveyed  or  indicated — were 
diligently  scrutinized.  By  an  ingenious  contrivance,  the  food 
of  the  assembled  cardinals  was  delivered  "  at  a  round  turning 
wheel  made  in  the  wall,"  preventing  all  personal  intercourse 
with  those  outside.  The  very  offals — happily  it  was  winter — 
were  placed  under  the  same  rigid  interdict.  Once  passed  the 
gates,  the  broken  fragments  remained,  or  had  to  be  disposed 
of  by  those  within  as  best  they  could.  To  add  to  their  dis- 
comfort (for  without  some  pressure  the  reluctance  of  the 
cardinals  to  arrive  at  any  decision,  where  one  only  could 
enjoy  the  prize,  would  never  have  terminated),  their  dishes 
after  a  few  days  were  restricted  to  one  kind  of  meat,  with  the 
prospect  of  further  diminution  if  they  failed  to  agree  within  a 
reasonable  time.     To  some  of  the  cardinals  who  were  sickly, 


444  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VUI.  [A.D. 

to  others  who  were  advanced  in  years,  such  privations  were 
intolerable ;  to  all  the  strict  confinement  was  a  severe  trial, 
from  which  they  were  glad  to  escape,  even  at  the  chance  of 
sacrificing  their  ambition.  None  but  the  stoutest  and  most 
resolute  could  endure  so  rigid  a  restraint  without  discomfort. 
From  day  to  day  the  conclave  met  to  go  through,  without 
success,  the  same  round  of  intrigues,  the  same  disputes,  com- 
binations, opposition,  voting,  and  revoting,  weariness  at  last 
producing  that  unanimity  which  reason  and  persuasion  failed 
to  effect.  Of  this  one  cardinal  at  least  was  well  aware,  and 
had  taken  his  measures  accordingly. 

The  first  night  was  passed  in  comparative  quiet.     Next 
day,   in  spite   of  all  precautions,  rumours  were  afloat   that 
watchwords   and   tokens   had  passed  from  those  within,  in- 
dicating that   Cardinal   De   Medici    had   no   chance    of   the 
election.     On  the  third  day  three  cardinals  requested,  in  the 
name  of  the  College,  to  have  the  doors  of  the  conclave  opened, 
"  that  they  might  avoid  such  filthiness   as   they  had  there 
within  of  the  fragments  of  meat  and  drink ;  the  savor  whereof, 
they  said,  was  so  great  that  they  could  not  abide  it."  ^     The 
ambassadors  and  others  in  charge  called  a  meeting  to  consider 
this  important  proposal ;  but  concluded  on  refusing  it,  leaving 
the  cardinals  to  find  their  own  remedy.     On  Thursday,  the 
2nd  of  -January,^  and  the  sixth  day  of  the  conclave,  their  food 
was   diminished,    and   every   one   had  to    make    his    choice 
whether   he   would   henceforth   have  boiled   meat  or  roast ; 
"  after  which,"  says  Clerk,  "  they  shall  get  no  more."     Two 
days   before,    Cardinal   Grimani,   who   had   come   post  from 
Venice  to  take  part  in  the  election,  was  carried  out  almost 
dead  from  the  conclave.     One  of  Cardinal  Farnese's  servants, 
in  the  bustle,  took  the  opportunity  of  calling  to  "  one  of  his 
company,  and  said  to  him  that  he  should  bring  a  bigger  pot 
of  his  master's  wine  in  the  morning,  for  the  cardinals  liked 
much  that  wine  everich  of  them." 

The  words  were  caught  up  immediately,  and  interpreted 
as  a  secret  watchword  between  Farnese  and  his  friends,  of  his 
success  at  the  election.  Farnese  was  a  Eoman,  of  ancient 
descent  and  noble  connections.  He  was,  besides,  one  of  the 
most  wealthy  and  influential  of  the  cardinals,  and  before 
entering  the  conclave  was  considered  by  all  parties  as  not 

*  III.  p.  828.  generally  followed  liis  accoant  of  the 

*  See  Hadr.  Annal.,  p.    148.     As       election. 
Clerk  was  present  at  the  time,  I  have 


15-21.]  THE   CONCLAVE.  445 

unlikely  to  succeed  to  the  papal  chair.  But  though  a  man  of 
great  learning,  and  no  inconsiderable  abilities,  he  was  haughty 
and  choleric,  and  inclined  to  covetousness.  Unfortunately 
also  for  his  advancement,  he  had  formerly  espoused  the  cause 
of  the  French;  and  though  he  had  now  abandoned  their 
interests,  and  professed  neutrality,  his  professions  were  not 
considered  sincere.  His  name  was  inserted  last  on  the  list 
arranged  by  Don  Manuel  and  Cardinal  De  Medici.  The 
former  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  exact  a  promise  from 
Farnese,  that,  in  the  event  of  his  becoming  Pope,  he  should 
give  secm-ity  for  his  good  and  faithful  behaviour  to  the 
Emperor,  by  sending  one  of  his  sons  as  a  hostage  to  Naples. 

When  Farnese  had  twelve  votes  Cardinal  St.  Quatuor,  his 
adherent,  cried  aloud,  Papam  hahemus.  He  was  joined  by 
De  Medici,  Campeggio,  and  five  imperialists  ;  others  followed 
their  example.  But  the  quick  eye  of  his  enemy  Colonna, 
casting  a  rapid  glance  over  his  supporters,  detected  the 
mancBuvre.  Seeing  his  partizans  remain  firm,  he  told  his 
opponents  with  a  loud  voice  that  they  were  bad  arithmeticians, 
and  had  made  a  false  reckoning.  His  assertion  was  confirmed 
on  a  scrutiny  ;  Farnese  was  baulked  of  his  chance  ;  from  that 
day  his  fortunes  declined,  and  he  never  again  obtained  the 
same  number  of  voices.  But  Farnese  had  to  pay  dearly  for 
this  momentary  vision  of  a  papal  tiara ;  for  upon  the  bruit  of 
his  election  his  house  was  ransacked  by  the  populace.  He 
was  famous  for  his  architectural  taste,  and  his  magnificent 
palace  in  Rome  would  have  shared  the  same  fate  had  it  not 
been  defended  by  a  body  of  troops  and  seven  or  eight  great 
pieces  of  artillery. 

Hitherto  Farnese,  Fiesco,  and  the  Bishop  of  Ostia,  a 
Spaniard,  had  been  the  favourites.  At  no  time  had  De 
Medici  obtained  more  than  six  votes.  Now  Colonna  was  put 
into  nomination.  The  battle  raged  between  the  two  rivals 
with  undiminished  violence  and  obstinacy.  The  Romans  grew 
impatient ;  doubts  were  entertained  whether  the  conclave 
would  ever  come  to  any  determination.  Their  food  was  then 
further  diminished  with  prospect  of  greater  severities. 

Up  to  this  time  little  notice  had  been  taken  of  absent 
cardinals.  On  one  occasion  only  had  the  Cardinal  of  Tortosa 
been  proposed,  and  received  eight  votes  ;  and  about  the  same 
time  seven  votes  were  given  to  Wolsey.  Too  clever  a  diplo- 
matist to  waste  his  efforts,  De  Medici  reserved  his  strength 
whilst  the  contention  was  raging  at  the  highest.     According 


446  THE   REIGN  OP   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

to  Clerk/ — whose  testimony  is  of  great  weight  whenever  he 
speaks  from  personal  ohservation — after  the  defeat  of  Farnese, 
Wolsey  was  proposed,  and  had  in  the  first  scrutiny  nine,  in 
the  second  twelve,  in  the  third  nineteen  votes.  But  if  the 
ordinary  accounts  of  the  conclave  are  to  be  trusted,  Wolsey 
was  put  forward  on  one  occasion  only,  and  then  received  only 
seven  votes.  And  this  is  more  probable  ;  for  Campeggio,  who 
had  no  object  in  depreciating  his  own  services,  tells  Wolsey, 
in  a  letter  written  when  the  election  was  over,^  amidst  the 
confusion  of  people  bursting  into  the  conclave,  that  he  had 
concerted  measures  with  De  Medici  in  his  favour ;  and  he 
adds  that  Wolsey  had  as  many  as  eight  or  nine  votes  at  every 
scrutiny.  In  another  letter,^  written  the  day  before,  he 
assures  Wolsey  that  he  was  often  proposed  and  was  readily 
supported ;  but  that  the  cardinals  feared  Wolsey's  youth,  in 
spite  of  Campeggio's  assertion  that  he  was  nearer  sixty  than 
fifty.  It  was  not  reasonable  to  expect  more ;  nor  is  it  pro- 
bable that  Campeggio  or  De  Medici,  both  candidates  for  the 
papal  throne,  would  have  heartily  supported  the  claims  of 
Wolsey.  Wolsey  himself  could  not  have  anticipated  success. 
We  have  Clerk's  assurance  that  he  would  have  stirred  earlier, 
and  with  greater  effect,  had  the  King  and  the  Cardinal's 
pleasure  been  made  known  to  him  sooner;  "but  at  my 
departing,"  he  says,  "  your  Grace  showed  me  precisely  that 
ye  would  never  meddle  therewith."  Too  cautious  to  express 
all  that  he  thought,  he  knew  well  the  real  cause  of  his  failure  ; 
and  that  was,  in  his  own  words,  that  Wolsey  "  favored  not  all 
the  best  the  Emperor." 

But  if  Clerk  exaggerated  the  number  of  votes  obtained  by 
Wolsey  in  the  conclave,  he  was  confirmed  in  his  mistake  by 
that  great  adept  in  dissimulation,  Cardinal  de  Medici,  after- 
wards Clement  VII.  De  Medici  assured  Pace,  on  his  arrival 
at  Florence,^  that  in  every  scrutiny  in  the  conclave  he  gave 
bis  vote  for  Wolsey,  and  caused  seventeen  or  eighteen  of  his 
friends  to  do  the  same.  The  statement  agrees  with  Clerk's 
assertion,  but,  like  his,  is  inconsistent  with  Campeggio's 
letters,  and  the  official  accounts.^     The  facts  of  the  case  are 

>  III.  I960.  told    Pace    that    Wolsey    had    divers 

^  III.  1952.  voices  in  the  late  conclave,  by  means 

2  III.  1945.  of    De    Medici,    his    own    among   the 

*  III.  1981.  number;   but  they  could  never  succeed 

*  It  is  remarkable  with  what  per-  in  their  object,  the  cardinals  alleging 
tinacity  this  story  was  repeated.  that  Wolsey  was  nimis  potens.  °IIL 
Cardinal  Sienna,  another  imperialist,  1990. 

and  earnest  supporter  of  De  Medici, 


1522.]  THE   ELECTION   COXCLUDED.  447 

now  for  the  first  time  clearly  ascertained,  and  the  additional 
evidence  lately  discovered  helps  us  to  dissipate  the  obscurity 
■which  has  hitherto  hung  over  these  events,  and  divided  the 
opinions  of  historians.  On  the  2-ith  of  December,  three  days 
before  the  conclave  assembled,  Don  Manuel  had  informed  the 
Emperor  that  he  had  made  an  arrangement  with  De  Medici 
that  in  the  event  of  his  election  proving  unsuccessful,  he 
should  give  his  own  vote  and  the  votes  of  his  supporters  to 
the  candidate  to  be  nominated  by  the  Spaniard.  Four  days 
after  he  wrote  again  to  the  Emperor  to  say,  that,  in  the  event 
of  the  choice  not  falling  on  De  Medici  or  any  other  cardinal 
present  in  the  conclave,  he  had  proposed  Tortosa  as  the 
imperial  candidate.  Tortosa  was  named  by  the  friends  of 
De  Medici,  and  had  fifteen  votes  ;  afterwards  twenty-two  ;  on 
the  eleventh  scrutiny  twenty-six ;  and  then,  by  the  concurrence 
of  both  parties,  the  requisite  number,  to  the  astonishment  of 
all,  and  the  disappointment  of  many. 

The  election  had  lasted  fourteen  days,  and  was  concluded 
on  the  9th  of  January,  1522.  According  to  Campeggio's 
assertion,  in  his  letter  to  Wolsey,^  the  cardinals  had  been 
entirely  influenced  in  their  choice  by  Tortosa's  integrity,  for 
few  had  ever  seen  him.  Others  affirmed  that  the  result  could 
only  have  been  brought  about  by  the  direct  inspiration  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  The  Eoman  populace  were  less  pious  and  less 
complaisant.  On  leaving  the  conclave,  the  cardinals  were 
greeted  with  screams,  whistling,  and  shouts  of  derision  ;  their 
pretensions  were  ridiculed,  their  persons  in  danger.  What 
could  induce  them  to  elect  a  stranger,  an  old  man,  the 
Emperor's  schoolmaster,  and  pass  over  so  many  able,  noble, 
and  wealthy  Eomans  ?  The  reader  can  now  judge  for  himself 
how  far  Charles  V.  fulfilled  his  jDromise  to  Henry  VIH.  and  to 
Wolsey,  and  furthered  the  Cardinal's  election.  He  can  also 
judge  what  degree  of  credit  is  due  to  the  Emperor's  solemn 
asseveration  that  Don  Manuel  had  no  sort  of  commission  to 
favour  the  election  of  De  Medici  or  of  any  other  candidate, 
with  the  exception  of  Wolsey,  in  whose  behalf  he  had  written 
to  his  ambassador.  But  he  added  hypocrisy  to  insincerity 
when  he  stated,  "  It  is  not  probable  that  the  said  Don  John 
made  interest  for  De  Medici  in  particular,  judging  from  the 
result.  On  the  contrary,  the  election  fell  on  a  party  never 
contemplated,  and  appears  to  have  been  rather  the  work  of 
God  than  of  man  !  "  ^^ 

'  III.  1945.  »  III.  2024. 


448  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VIEI.  [A.D. 

He  gained  nothing,  however,  by  this  stroke  of  policy.  If 
he  expected  to  find  in  Adrian  VI.  a  zealous  partizan  or  a 
convenient  instrument,  he  found  himself  egregiously  deceived. 
Unlike  his  predecessor,  the  new  Pope  was  a  man  of  strict, 
reserved,  and  ascetical  habits.  Leo  X.  had  spent  his  time 
gaily,  surrounded  by  poets,  by  artists,  and  musicians.  He 
delighted  in  hunting,  hawking,  and  fishing.  A  hundred 
lackeys  lounged  in  his  apartments  ;  half  a  score  of  cardinals 
lent  splendour  to  his  ante-rooms.  If  the  patronage  of  the 
fine  arts,  if  the  cultivation  of  polite  learning,  if  the  love  of 
architecture,  statuary,  antiquities,  the  most  costly  marbles, 
the  most  refined  paintings,  could  have  reformed  the  age  or 
repressed  heresy,  Leo  might  have  gone  down  to  posterity 
embalmed  in  the  odour  of  sanctity.  His  successor  had  no 
taste  for  these  things.  A  Flemish  monk,  of  poor  parentage, 
habituated  to  the  frugality  and  discipline  of  the  cloister,  he 
retained  to  the  last  much  of  its  asceticism,  and  something  of 
its  narrowness.  For  the  arts  which  entranced  Leo  he  showed 
little  or  no  indulgence  ;  and  poetry  was  his  abhorrence.  As 
a  student  at  Louvain,  he  had  trodden  the  old  and  thorny 
round  of  scholastic  philosophy,  with  the  phlegmatic  perse- 
verance of  his  race,  and  the  regularity  of  a  temperament 
never  bew^ildered  by  unruly  passions.  He  rose  at  a  fixed 
hour,  he  prayed  at  a  fixed  hour ;  he  had  fixed  hours  for  his 
meals  and  his  repose  ;  and  he  regulated  his  affections  and  his 
intercourse  with  his  friends  by  the  same  excellent  and  unvary- 
ing rule.  His  speech  was  slow,  his  voice  placid  and  equable, 
his  manners  grave  ;  no  irregular  enthusiasm  flushed  his  sedate 
and  dignified  countenance,  or  disturbed  the  lustre  of  his  small 
gray  eyes.^  Qualities  such  as  these  were  inestimable  for 
success  in  life,  especially  in  the  court  of  Charles  V. 

From  a  regular  and  respectable  dean  of  a  college  he  rose 
to  be  tutor  to  Charles,  then  a  boy  of  seven  years  old.  To  the 
day  of  his  death  Charles  V.  could  never  translate  an  ordinary 
letter  written  in  simjjle  Latin,  or  master  the  elements  of  that 
language  in  which  all  public  documents  were  composed,  and 
all  princes  at  that  time  corresponded.  Yet,  though  Adrian 
had  never  succeeded  in  furnishing  the  heart  of  his  imperial 
disciple  with  the  rudiments  of  learning,  though  Charles  knew 
no  Latin,  and  not  much  French,  Adrian  contrived  to  impress 
his  imperial  pupil  with  a  sense  of  the  worth  of  outward 
decorum — a  vii'tue  for  which  Charles  was  always  remarkable. 

'  See  Moring.  Hadriani  Vit.  ch.  5. 


1522.]  ADRIAN   VI.  449 

At  the  diet  at  Worms,  in  1521,  the  young  Emperor  overheard 
— what  was  by  no  means  uncommon — one  of  the  German 
princes  spluttering  out  horrible  German  oaths,  in  more  than 
German  profusion.  Turning  to  one  of  his  attendants,  Charles 
is  reported  to  have  said,  "  What  would  Adrian  have  thought 
had  he  heard  us  cursing  and  swearing  after  this  fashion!  " 
Sent  into  Spain,  appointed  a  member  of  that  council  of  which 
the  great  Ximenes  was  the  soul  and  the  dictator,  Adrian  w^as 
honest,  plodding,  and  industrious.  But  his  modest  intellect 
was  crushed  by  the  capacious  genius  of  the  grand  Cardinal, 
and  found  no  room,  no  opportunity,  for  expansion.  It  was 
eclipsed  a  second  time,  as  it  had  been  before  by  the  great 
minister  Chievres,  his  associate  in  the  education  of  Charles  V. 
Now  created  Cardinal,  and  appointed  to  the  government  of 
Spain  whilst  Charles  was  away  for  his  coronation  at  Aix-la- 
Chapelle,  it  was  Adrian's  misfortune  to  have  the  task  of 
quelling  an  insurrection  of  the  Communeros — a  task  to  which 
he  was  wholly  unequal.  But  though  he  had  no  influence  with 
the  mass  in  restraining  their  excesses,  such  was  the  respecta- 
bility of  his  character  that  they  undertook  to  bear  him  harm- 
less, provided  he  did  not  interfere  with  them.^ 

With  such  merits  and  such  services,  backed  by  the  intrigues 
of  Don  Manuel  and  the  still  greater  recommendation  of  ad- 
vanced years — for  he  was  then  sixty-four — Adrian  was  advanced 
to  the  Papacy.  The  official  announcement  of  his  election 
reached  him  at  Vittoria,  on  the  9th  of  February  ;  but  six 
months  elapsed  before  he  made  his  appearance  at  Eome. 
From  the  despatches  of  the  English  ambassadors  we  gather 
many  particulars  of  his  personal  history  and  proceedings, 
hitherto  unknown ;  for  he  was  attended  from  Vittoria  to 
Eome  by  John  Hannibal,  afterwards  Master  of  the  Eolls. 
On  the  state  of  the  great  city  during  the  protracted  absence 
of  the  Pope,  the  factions  among  the  cardinals,  the  spoil 
of  Leo's  jewels  and  plate,  amounting  by  report  to  300,000 
ducats,^  the  horrible  ravages  of  the  plague  by  which  the  city 
was  devastated  during  Adrian's  absence,  I  forbear  to  enlarge  : 
all  these  details  will  be  found  in  the  letters  of  Clerk  and  Pace. 
The  sea  was  swarming  with  Saracens  ;  the  Turk  gathering  up 
his  strength  for  a  final  struggle  with  the  unhappy  Ehodians  ; 
disaffection  w^as  spreading  rapidly  throu  gh  the  states  of  the 
Church.  "  The  cardinals,"  said  Don  Manuel,  not  without 
some  appearance  of  justice,  "had  with  them  at  the  election 

'  See  III.  976.  *  III.  2046,  210.-,. 

VOL.  I.  2  a 


450  THE  REIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [AD. 

the  Holy  Ghost,  but  since  the}''  have  come  out  of  the  conclave 
they  have  the  devil."  ^  Still  Adrian  came  not ;  and  at  Rome 
rumours  prevailed  that  he  was  dead  or  would  never  come,  or 
would  transfer  the  seat  of  the  Papacy  to  Spain,  He  was 
apparently  in  no  hurry  to  set  out.  Leo  had  bequeathed  to 
his  successor  a  debt  of  800,000  ducats.  In  his  anxiety  to 
drive  the  French  out  of  Italy,  he  had  impoverished  his  jSnances 
by  hiring  Swiss  mercenaries,  and  fettered  himself  with 
pecuniary  engagements  he  was  not  able  to  fulfil.  Charles 
expected  that  Adrian  would  walk  in  the  steps  of  his  pre- 
decessor. But  the  new  Pope  entertained  no  such  intentions. 
He  had  either  taken  it  into  his  head,  or  had  been  persuaded 
by  the  opposite  faction,  that  Don  Manuel  had  endeavoured  to 
hinder  his  election.  The  suspicion  ripened  into  fixed  aversion, 
as  it  will  do  in  men  of  Adrian's  temperament,  and  extended 
from  the  minister  to  his  master.  Resenting  this  suspicion, 
the  haughty  Spaniard  treated  both  Pope  and  cardinals  with 
undisguised  and  unmeasured  contempt.  Nor  were  matters 
improved  when  Charles,  seeing  the  inexpediency  of  retaining 
at  Rome  a  minister  so  unpalatable  to  the  Sovereign  Pontiff, 
superseded  Don  Manuel  by  the  Duke  of  Sessa.  Unhappily 
for  the  projects  and  future  conquests  of  Charles,  Adrian  from 
the  first  had  conceived  the  idea  of  re-establishing  peace,  and 
of  turning  the  united  armies  of  Christendom  against  the  Turk. 
The  project  was  chimerical,  but  it  was  not  the  less  obstinately 
cherished  on  that  account ;  and  Adrian  was  encouraged  in  it 
by  the  Archbishop  of  Bari,  one  of  the  few  cardinals  to  whom, 
in  his  inexperience,  he  lent  a  ready  ear.  The  Archbishop, 
though  a  Spaniard,  belonged  to  a  party,  still  numerous,  who 
regarded  with  dislike  the  English  alliance,  and  were  anxious 
to  establish  peace  between  France  and  the  Emperor.^ 

Nor  were  their  hopes  without  foundation.  Charles,  unable 
to  follow  up  his  late  successes  in  Italy  from  want  of  funds, 
seemed  not  unwilling  to  temporize.  His  English  allies  hung 
back,  obstinately  bent  on  extorting  the  hardest  conditions  ; 
and  the  offers  of  Francis  were  tempting.  More  than  once  he 
was  inclined  to  recede.  Probably,  could  a  complete  view  be 
had  of  the  Emperor's  policy,  from  the  imperial  despatches, 

>  III.  2046.  Don  Manuel,  the  Duke  of   Sessa  and 

^  Much    curious    information    for  others,  in  the  archives  at   Simancas, 

these    times    will    be    found    in    M.  by    M.   Gachard,  have   been  of  great 

Gachard's  "Correspondancede  Charles  service.     Since  then  Mr.  Bergenroth's 

V.  et  d'Adrien  VI."     The  numerous  Calendar  has  appeared,  and  added  to 

abstracts  made    from    the    letters    of  our  information. 


1522.]  WAR   DECLARED   AGAINST   FRANCE.  451 

his  professions  of  attachment  to  his  "  good  uncle  "  and  ''  good 
father,"  the  King  of  England,  would  he  found  to  he  as  sincere 
as  most  of  his  other  professions.  But  French  influence  was 
now  on  the  wane  in  the  councils  of  Charles  Y.,  in  consequence 
of  the  death  of  Chievres.  Though  fettered  with  many  con- 
ditions agreeahle  neither  to  his  pride  nor  his  penury,  an 
alliance  with  England  offered  him  the  best  chance  of  obtain- 
ing that  which  he  needed  most,  and  made  no  scruple  to  ask — 
a  loan  of  some  thousands  of  ducats,  munitions  of  war,  and 
the  aid  of  the  Swiss  to  be  subsidized  by  Henry.  Besides, 
whilst  Charles  was  away  pacifying  his  Spanish  subjects,  the 
defence  of  the  Low  Countries  might  be  safely  entrusted  to  his 
future  father-in-law.  Troops  of  Spaniards  and  Burgundians 
to  fight  his  battles  on  the  border  territory  of  the  Netherlands, 
an  EngHsh  invasion  of  Picardy,  a  partnership,  in  short,  of 
which  the  advantages  should  be  his,  and  the  burthens  his 
ally's — these  were  the  conditions  he  hoped  to  exact.  If  he 
experienced  some  difficulty  in  realizing  so  pleasant  a  vision, 
it  arose  not  from  the  modesty  of  Charles,  but  the  obstinate 
punctiliousness  of  Wolsey,  as  the  Spaniards  called  it. 

To  carry  his  project  into  execution,  it  was  necessary  for 
him  to  obtain  from  Henry  an  open  declaration  of  war  in  his 
favour.  Such  a  declaration  had  been  hitherto  delayed  under 
various  pretexts  ;  chiefly,  that  the  English  shipping  would  be 
endangered  by  untimely  hostilities  with  France,  and  the  in- 
stalments due  for  Tournay,  now  some  months  behindhand, 
would  be  lost.  Suspecting  the  intentions  of  England,  yet  un- 
willing to  hazard  a  rupture,  Francis  had  delayed  these  pay- 
ments from  time  to  time.  Eepeatedly  pressed  by  the  English 
ambassador  to  make  good  his  engagements,  he  had  as 
frequently  excused  himself,  until  at  length  both  parties,  weary 
of  dissimulation,  threw  off  the  mask,  and  openly  prepared  for 
war.  The  event  long  foreseen  was  precipitated  by  disputes 
between  the  ships  of  the  two  countries.  Satisfaction  was 
demanded  and  refused.  Nothing  remained  but  defiance,  and 
that  defiance  was  delivered  by  Clarencicux  Herald  to  the 
French  King  at  Lyons,  with  the  usual  formalities,  on  the 
29th  of  May.^  It  was  flung  back  in  the  herald's  teeth  with 
the  proud  assurance  that  if  any  man  said  the  French  King 
had  failed  to  keep  his  word,  he  would  give  his  maligner  the 
lie  ;   and  if  Henry  took  the  field  he  was  ready  to  meet  him. 

Charles  was  in  England  at  the  time.    He  had  been  received 

'  III.  2292. 


452  THE   KEIGN   OF  HENRY  VHI.  [A.D. 

there  with   imhounded  demonstrations  of  delight.     At  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  27th  of  May  he  landed  at 
Dover/   accompanied    by   the    Duke   d'Alva,   the   Prince    of 
Orange,  the  Count  of  Nassau,  the  Marquis  of  Brandenburg, 
and  a  numerous  retinue  of  Spanish  and  German  nobility.     As 
he  touched  the  shore  he  was  received  by  the  Cardinal  on  the 
sands,  attended  by  300  lords,  knights,  and  gentlemen.    Taking 
the  Cardinal's  arm,  he  passed  on  to  Dover  Castle.     Here  he 
was  visited,  on  Wednesday  the  28th,  by  the  King,  who  had 
arrived   at  Canterbury  the  day  before.      The  next  day  was 
spent  in  religious  solemnities  ;    Friday  on  board  the   Great 
Harry,  then  lying  with  the  rest  of  the  fleet  at  Dover.     The 
same  afternoon  both  monarchs  started  for  Canterbury,  and 
were  met  at  the  city  gates  by  the  mayor  and  aldermen  with 
the   usual   speeches.     Passing  on  between  two  rows  of  the 
clergy  and  religious  bodies  which  lined  both  sides  of  the  street 
as  far  as  Christ  Church,  they  were  received  by  the  Archbishop 
and  twelve  mitred  prelates,  and  made  their  offerings  at  the 
minster.     Next  day  (Saturday)  they  lodged  at  Sittingbourne  ; 
the  Sunday  at  Rochester,  where  they  were  entertained  by  the 
Bishop  and  his  convent.     Arriving  at  Gravesend  on  Monday, 
they  found  a  fleet  of  barges  gaily  decked,  ready  to  convey 
them  to  Greenwich.     By  six  the  same  afternoon  they  reached 
Greenwich  amidst  salutes  of  ordnance  planted  on  both  sides 
of  the  river.     As  Katharine  and  her  daughter  Mary  stood  at 
the  great  gates  of  the  Palace  to  welcome  the  Emperor,  Charles 
dropped  on  his  knee  in  the  Spanish  fashion,  and  craved  his 
aunt's  blessing.     Wednesday  and  Thursday,  the  4th  and  5tli 
of  June,  were  spent  in  masks  and  revelry. 

On  Friday  the  whole  company  set  forward  to  London,  "  in 
great  triumph,"  as  the  Emperor  wrote  to  his  favourite  La 
Chaulx,  "not  only  like  brothers  of  one  mind,  but  in  the 
same  attire."  They  were  met  on  the  road  by  John  Milborne, 
the  Mayor,  and  the  City  Companies,  Sir  Thomas  More  making 
the  oration. 

The  procession  advanced  to  Southwark.  As  it  passed  the 
Marshalsea  and  the  King's  Bench  the  Emperor  requested 
free  pardon  for  the  prisoners.  Amidst  pageants  and  devices 
strangely  blended,  intermixed  with  Biblical  allusions,  stories 
of  the  Bound  Table,  the  classics,  and  ancient  mythologies ; 
amidst  fantastic  decorations  of  flowers,  fish,  and  indescribable 
animals ;  amidst  fair  ladies  representing  the  cardinal  virtues  ; 

'  III.  2306. 


1522.]  THE   EMPEROR  IN   ENGLAND   AGAIN.  453 

galleries  filled  with  men,  -women,  and  children  singing  and 
playing  or  reciting  verses  in  honour  of  the  auspicious  event ; — 
the  j)rocession  threaded  its  way  to  the  conduit  at  Gracechurch 
Street,  thence  to  Leadenhall,  next  to  Cornhill,  through  the 
Poultry  to  the  great  conduit  in  Cheapside.  At  St.  Paul's  the 
royal  party  dismounted,  and  made  their  offerings  at  the  high 
altar ;  that  done,  the  Emperor  retired  to  his  lodgings  in  Black 
Friars.  After  high  mass  at  St.  Paul's  on  Whit  Sunday  the 
King  and  the  Emperor  went  by  water  to  Westminster  Ahhey. 
Here  "  the  sanctuary  men  cried  '  Mercy  and  pardon.'  They 
were  so  hasty,  and  pressed  so  near,  that  the  serjeants-at-arms 
could  scarce  keep  them  from  touching  the  Emperor  and  the 
King."  ^ 

On  Monday  the  9th  both  monarchs  dined  and  hunted  with 
the  Duke  of  Suffolk  in  Southwark.  Next  day  to  Hampton 
Court ;  Thursday  to  Windsor ;  Friday  and  Saturday  were 
given  up  to  hunting  ;  Sunday  night  to  a  play  in  the  great  hall, 
of  which  the  French  King  formed  the  burthen.  An  unruly 
horse  was  introduced  upon  the  stage.  Amity  (Henry  and  the 
Emperor)  sent  out  their  messengers  Prudence  and  Policy,  and 
when  they  had  tamed  the  horse  (France)  Force  bridled  him 
and  reined  in  his  head.^ 

Enough  of  pageants  and  feastings ;  more,  perhaps,  than 
was  palatable  to  the  Emperor,  who  counted  the  expense,  and 
thought  it  would  have  been  better  bestowed  in  the  shape  of 
a  loan  to  himself,  or  of  wages  to  his  soldiers. 

On  Monday  the  16th,  and  the  following  days,  the  articles 
of  alliance,  the  marriage  with  Mary,  the  invasion  of  France,-^ 
and  the  partition  of  its  dominions  between  the  expectant 
conquerors,  were  arranged,  in  secret  conclave,  by  the  King, 
the  Emperor,  and  Wolsey.  On  Friday,  the  afternoon  of  the 
20th,  Charles  left  Windsor  for  Winchester ;  and  on  Sunday, 
the  Gth  of  July,  embarked  for  St.  Ander  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon. 

Before  his  departure  the  Princess  Mary,  then  seven  years 
old,  was  brought  to  Windsor  to  take  leave  of  her  affianced 
husband.  The  Spaniards  said  that  she  promised  to  grow  up 
a  handsome  lady.  What  the  Emperor  thought  of  her  he  was 
wise  enough  to  keep  to  himself.  He  had  not  visited  England 
to  think  about  ladies  ;  and  in  all  the  vicissitudes  of  his  policy 
he  remained  constant  to  one  idea — the  union  of  Spain  and 

'  Uall,  p.  GIO.  »  See  III.  2:522,  23:53.     War  was 

*  Ihid.,  p.  641.  proclaimed  on  iLo  IGtli. 


454  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY    VIH.  [A.D. 

Portugal.  When  the  battle  of  life  was  nearly  over,  weary  of 
the  cares  of  government,  and  a  martyr  to  ennui  and  the  gout, 
when  he  had  nothing  to  gain,  and  nothing  to  hope  for,  he 
offered  his  hand  to  Mary,  then  Queen  of  England,  whom  he 
had  slighted  as  a  girl  of  seven  years  old.  But  he  had  other 
projects  in  view  when  he  took  his  last  leave  of  her  at  Windsor 
in  July,  1522. 

Yet  tardy  as  England  had  been  in  drifting  into  war,  and 
firmly  as  Wolsey  had  resolved  not  to  precipitate  the  final  and 
fatal  stroke  at  the  importunities  of  the  Emperor  or  of  the 
Lady  Margaret,  when  the  blow  fell  at  last  the  nation  was  not 
prepared  for  hostilities.      A  moderate  navy  had   been  got 
ready  for  sea  under  the  command  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  son 
of  the  victor  of  Flodden,  and  his  vice-admiral  Sir  William 
Fitzwilliam,  the  late  ambassador  at  the  French  court.     So 
long  as  the  commerce  of  the  country  was  restricted,  so  long 
as  no  crops  were  raised  beyond  what  was  necessary  for  average 
consumption,  adequate  provision  for  a  navy,  still  more  for  an 
army,  with  the  indispensable  requisites  of  bread,  biscuit,  beef, 
fish,  and  beer — for  other  supplies  were  out  of  the  question — 
was  a  matter  of  considerable  difficulty.^     Bread,  beef,  fish, 
and  beer,  in  the  national  economics  of  that  time,  involved  a 
multitude  of  intricate  arrangements,  not  to  be  grasped  at  once 
by  the  genius  of  a  consummate  statesman,  or  mastered  off- 
hand by  the  most  indefatigable  industry.     If  the  barley  could 
be  collected  with  no  small  labour  and  cost  in  different  counties, 
it  had  to  be  malted ;  like  the  wheat,  it  could  only  be  ground 
in  small  quantities  in  windmills,  or  at  best  in  water-mills. 
Wind  and  water  were  sometimes  as  perverse  as  the  French, 
and  far  less  submissive  than  they  to  the  meagre  mechanics  of 
the  age.     It  was  now  midsummer,  and  the  heat  was  excessive. 
Salt  beef  (without  which  no  English  sailor  could  be  made 
amenable  to  discipline)  could  not  be  hastily  procured,  or,  if 
procured,  transported  by  the  slow  conveyance  of  those  times 
to   the   parts   required.     There   was   a   hue   and   cry  in  all 
directions  for  hoops,  casks,  and  barrels.     The  energies  and 
resources  of  the  nation  were  taxed  to  the  utmost  for  hoys,  for 
beer,  for  fish  and  beef  barrels.     Men  burning  with  ardour  to 
fight  the  French,  such  was  their  confidence,  admirals,  ofiicers 
great   and  small,   saw  their  advantages  lost,  and  felt  their 
energies   grow  cold,  owing  to  that   perverse   and   invincible 
obstacle — lack  of  victuals. 

'  A  gallon  of  beer  was  the  daily  allowance  of  every  soldier  and  sailor. 


1522.]  AN   lEKEGULAR   COMMISSAEIAT.  455 

Thus,  on  the  23rd  of  June  (when  the  summer  was  rapidly 
advancmg)  Surrey  writes  to  the  King  bitterly :  ^  "  The  whole 
complement  for  5,000  men,  the  beer  from  Portsmouth  and  the 
rest  from  Southampton,  was  promised  by  the  last  of  May, 
and  by  this  date  we  have  with  much  difficulty  been  provided 
with  flesh,  fish,  and  biscuit  for  two  months  from  Hampton, 
and  we  can  get  no  more  than  one  month's  beer  from  Ports- 
mouth. The  Yice-admiral  was  promised  his  whole  comple- 
ment before  to-day  ;  but  few  of  his  ships  are  victualled  for 
more  than  three  weeks,  some  only  for  eight  days,  and  most  of 
them  for  a  fortnight.  The  victuallers  say  they  have  been 
hindered  about  the  beer  for  want  of  casks,  but  are  as  far 
behindhand  with  flesh,  fish,  and  biscuit  as  with  beer.  We 
cannot  do  what  we  intend  unless  we  are  better  furnished ; 
and  it  would  be  a  pity  to  spend  so  much  without  doing  some 
great  disi^leasiufe  to  the  enemy,  which  we  see  good  likelihood 
of  doing  if  wind  and  victual  serve,  doubting  much  more  of  the 
victual  than  the  wind.'* 

In  Calais,  the  general  rendezvous  for  the  English  forces, 
matters  were  no  better.  It  was  impossible  to  keep  the  troops 
at  sea,  and  equally  impossible  to  disembark  them,  for  at 
Calais  there  was  no  accommodation,  and  no  provisions.  "  There 
is  great  scarcity  here,"  writes  Sir  Richard  Wingfield  ;^  "there 
has  been  no  wind  for  grinding  wheat  and  malt,  and  there  is  a 
deficiency  of  wood  for  the  bakehouses  and  the  brewhouses." 
And  in  another  letter,  "  The  country  is  ill  provided  both  with 
malt  and  water  to  brew,  by  reason  of  the  great  drought ;  but 
there  will  be  no  lack  of  Rhenish  wine  and  other  victuals." 
But  that  "  small  creature,"  "  Rhenish  wine  and  other  victuals," 
could  ill  supply  the  place  of  English  beef  and  beer.  English 
yeomen  with  greatest  appetites  for  the  fight  had  accustomed 
those  appetites  to  the  strong  and  staple  diet  of  the  country. 
On  English  beef,  salt  fish,  and  beer,  they  ploughed,  they 
sowed,  they  reaped,  they  wrestled,  pitched  the  bar,  drew  the 
bow,  went  to  bed,  and  rose  at  fom*  in  the  morning,  with  quiet 
consciences  and  contented  stomachs.  Two  or  three  weeks  of 
salt  water,  with  nothing  but  "  Rhenish  wine  and  other 
victuals,"  was  too  severe  a  trial  for  any  admiral  to  face,  and 
hope  in  that  interval  to  keep  an  efficient  crew  together. 

Such  practical  and  ignoble  difficulties  produced,  howeveV, 
one  good  effect :  naval  warfare  exclusively,  and  militar,y 
armaments  in  a  great  degree,  were  necessarily  restricted  to 

'  III.  2337,  abridged.  «  Aug.  20,  III.  2454,  2456,  abridged. 


456  THE  REIGN    OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

brief  manoeuvrings.  The  fleets  could  rarely  keep  the  sea 
beyond  a  few  days'  duration.  They  scoured  the  Channel  at 
brief  intervals,  making  hurried  descents  on  some  defenceless 
port  or  maritime  town,  and  the  rest  of  the  time  was  spent  in 
harbour.  An  army,  on  the  other  hand,  though  furnished 
originally  with  scanty  stores,  was  able  to  maintain  itself  in 
the  enemy's  country,  until,  by  its  own  wasting  fire,  and 
destruction,  it  was  compelled  to  decamp,  and  either  return 
home,  or  find  some  new  scene  for  its  destructive  energies. 
The  horrors  of  war  cannot  be  exaggerated;  yet  a  few  men 
only,  like  Sir  Thomas  More  or  Erasmus,  seemed  sensible  of 
the  magnitude  of  the  evil,  or  had  the  boldness  and  the  wisdom 
to  denounce  it.  Famine  and  desolation  followed  the  course 
of  the  invaders,  whose  object  was,  not  rapid  and  decisive 
victory,  that  is,  war  in  its  most  merciful  form,  but  repeated 
acts  of  plunder  and  devastation,  until  the  enemy,  bleeding  at 
every  pore,  succumbed  through  sheer  exhaustion.  Barns, 
corn-fields,  churches,  villages,  and  castles  were  indiscriminately 
given  to  the  flames.  What  became  of  the  inoffensive  villagers, 
whose  houses  were  thus  burned  over  their  heads,  and  their 
whole  means  of  livelihood  destroyed,  was  deemed  a  matter  of 
no  moment ;  such  considerations  never  troubled  the  thoughts 
of  the  invader.  Here  is  a  specimen  of  a  military  bulletin, 
sent  to  the  King  of  England  from  Surrey,  then  commanding 
the  English  forces  in  France:^  "The  Boulonnois  (all  the 
country  round  Boulogne)  is  so  burnt  and  pillaged  that  the 
French  have  good  reason  to  be  angry.  Vendome,  the  French 
king's  lieutenant,  has  seen  his  town  and  castle  of  Hughclere 
burnt,  he  being  at  Montreuil,  seven  miles  off.  All  the  country 
w^e  have  passed  through  has  been  burnt ;  and  all  the  strong 
places,  whether  castles  or  fortified  churches,  have  been  thrown 
down.  I  have  agreed  with  the  Emperor's  council  to  go  to- 
morrow towards  Dorlance  (Dourlens),  where  we  hope  to  be  in 
four  or  five  days,  doing  meanwhile  great  displeasure  to  the 
French.  When  we  have  burnt  Dorlance,  Corby,  Ancre,  Bray, 
and  the  neighbouring  country,  which  I  think  will  be  in  about 
■three  weeks,  I  cannot  see  that  we  can  do  much  more."  Four 
days  after,  he  wrote  again  to  say  that  he  had  already,  since 
his  last,  thrown  down  and  burned  "  the  goodly  castle  of 
Frewges,"  and  intended  to  do  the  same  with  the  castle  of 
Fresyn  to-morrow.  "To-day  we  lay  siege  to  Hesdin;  the 
French   have  abandoned  the  town,  where   the   pestilence  is 

1  III.  2540,  abriged. 


1522.]  THE   HOREOES   OF   WAE.  457 

raging.  The  Emperor's  council  are  -willing  it  shall  be  burned, 
which  shall  be  clone  within  three  hoiu's."  And  he  adds,  it 
must  be  thought  very  needlessly,  "  there  is  universal  poverty 
here,  and  great  fear  of  this  army.  I  trust  the  King's  grace 
and  you  (Wolsey)  -will  be  content  with  our  services  here."  ^ 

Wars  carried  on  in  this  spirit  could  have  no  other  effect 
than  that  of  brutalizing  equally  invader  and  invaded.  The 
extravagance  of  Francis  I.,  the  methods  employed  by  him  for 
maintaining  his  numerous  armies,  his  oppressive  exactions, 
his  insensibility  to  the  calamities  thus  inflicted,  had  alienated 
from  him,  in  a  great  degree,  the  patient  and  enduring  loyalty 
of  his  subjects.  Churches,  consecrated  plate  and  jewels,  even 
relics,  could  plead  no  exemption  from  the  hand  of  the  spoiler. 
Apostles  were  consigned  to  the  melting  pot,  chalices  to  the 
fui-nace  ;  until,  as  a  writer  of  the  time  expresses  it,  "  his 
people  were  eaten  up  to  the  bones,  and  the  Church  cried  for 
vengeance  upon  him."  ^  In  this  state  of  things  the  unhappy 
population  were  comparatively  indifferent  whether  they  suffered 
under  the  rule  of  a  native  prince  or  of  a  foreigner,  and  they 
offered  less  resistance  than  otherwise  they  would  have  done 
to  the  advance  of  the  English  troops.  But  if  Henry  had 
employed  all  his  study  in  devising  means  for  alienating  their 
affections,  or  making  English  domination  as  odious  and 
detestable  as  possible,  he  could  not  have  hit  uj)on  a'  more 
effectual  method  than  war  conducted  on  Surrey's  principles, 
and  sanctioned  by  himself.  If  the  French  languished  under 
the  legalized  oppression  of  a  native  sovereign,  they  had  much 
worse  to  fear  from  the  cruelty  and  injustice  of  a  stranger. 
The  spoliations  of  their  own  kings  faded  into  nothing  when 
compared  with  the  sullen  barbarity  of  English  troops,  who 
spared  neither  church  nor  house,  rick  nor  barn.  Thirst  for 
retahation,  as  well  as  the  necessity  of  defence,  braced  up  the 
sufferers  to  exertions  which  could  never  have  been  extracted 
from  their  loyalty.  In  such  wars  every  step  adds  to  the 
danger  and  the  difficulty  of  the  invader ;  a  solitude  of  his  own 
creation  all  around  him,  a  barren  and  smoking  country  at  his 
back,  in  front  stern  resistance  growing  every  day  more 
desperate,    enemies   increasing   every   day   in    numbers   and 

•  III.  2549,  abridged.  founded  (melted)  the  twelve  apostles, 

*  III.  2707.  "  In  the  base,  exile,  with  other  jewels  and  sacred  oma- 
and  poor  estate,"  says  Wolsey,  of  the  nieuts  of  the  chiux-hes." — p.  1091. 
French  King,  he  has  "  molten  the  Their  is  a  touch  of  grand  irouy  ia 
garnishing  of  St.  Martin's  corpse,  and  these  expressions. 


458  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

exasperation.  Cruelty  gives  birth  to  superstitious  terror,  a 
Nemesis  from  which  invading  armies  are  rarely  exempt. 
Their  fears  mirror  for  themselves  the  terrible  earnestness  of 
an  implacable  foe  watching  his  opportunities  for  vengeance 
with  fierce  eyes  and  panting  heart.  Happily  the  approach 
of  winter  suspended  hostilities,  and  gave  the  English  com- 
mander an  excuse  for  returning.  He  had  been  tardily  sup- 
ported by  the  imperialists,  who  did  not  want  to  see  France  in 
the  power  of  their  ally.  Each  of  the  two  contracting  powers 
had  different  objects  and  conflicting  interests. 

Meanwhile  an  event  had  taken  place  which  was  destined 
to  alter  the  whole  complexion  of  the  war. 

Charles  Duke  of  Bourbon,  by  blood,  by  marriage,  by 
alliance,  by  feudal  rights  and  territories,  by  position,  by 
military  rank,  and  personal  influence,  the  most  formidable 
subject,  and  scarce  a  subject,  of  Francis  I.,  had  taken  affront 
at  the  conduct  of  his  sovereign.  The  invasion  of  France  by 
the  Emperor  and  the  King  of  England  appeared  to  offer  him 
an  oj)portunity  for  revenge.  What  might  be  his  ulterior 
hopes  he  did  not  live  long  enough  to  develop ;  nor,  if  he  had 
lived,  would  he  have  had  sufficient  influence  to  accomplish. 
French  historians  have  assigned  various  reasons  for  his  dis- 
content : — his  ambition,  his  disputes  with  Louise  of  Savoy,  her 
jealousy  and  her  greed.  Others  have  sought  a  reason  for 
Bourbon's  disaffection  in  the  affront  offered  him  by  the  King, 
when  the  command  of  the  vanguard  was  assigned  to  the  Duke 
of  Alen^on,  and  the  rear  to  himself  and  Vendome.^ 

Unconscious  or  careless  of  the  Duke's  displeasure,  Francis 
had  sent  him  in  January,  1522,  into  Languedoc,  near  the 
imperial  frontiers,  with  orders  to  place  that  part  of  his 
dominions  in  a  state  of  defence.^  How  long  he  remained 
there — how  his  time  was  occupied — no  records  remain  to  tell. 
But  if  at  this  early  period,  far  removed  from  surveillance,  in 
close  proximity  with  the  Emperor's  officers,  Bourbon  already 
entertained  treasonable  intentions,  he  had  excellent  oj^por- 
tunities  for  carrying  out  designs  so  disastrous  to  his  thought- 
less and  precipitate  sovereign.     It  is  certain  that  long  before 

'  The  Constable,  in  his  own  state-  trusted    to  the   Duke  of   Alenijon   in 

ment  to  Beaurain,  justified  his  revolt  preference  to  himself ;  and,  3rdly,  by 

by  the  following  reasons  : — 1st,  that  the    King's   command    sentence    had 

after   his    services    in    Italy   he    had  been  given  against  him  in  the  matters 

been    deprived    of     his    pension    by  of    Burgundy. — See    III.    3392  ;    cf 

Francis  ;    2ndly,    in   the    last  war   in  p.  779,  and  No.  2817. 
Champagne   the    van   had    been    en-  '^  See  III.  1971. 


1522.]  THE   TREASON   OF   BOURBOX.  459 

the  end  of  that  year  he  had  been  negociating  with  the 
Emperor  the  terms  of  his  disaffection.  For  on  the  8th  of 
September  Charles  wrote  to  his  ambassadors  in  England,^ 
informing  them  that  the  charge  of  the  French  army  intended 
for  Italy  had  been  offered  by  the  King  to  Bourbon,  and  refused 
by  the  latter ;  that  Francis  and  the  Queen-mother  had  eagerly 
sought  for  a  reconciliation  with  Bourbon,  but  without  effect. 
"  Francis,"  he  adds,  "  spends  his  time  in  the  chase  with  the 
cardinal  of  Lorraine,  and  leaves  all  business  to  his  mother, 
the  admiral  (Bonnivet),  and  the  chancellor  (Du  Prat)."  The 
resentment  of  Bourbon  and  his  smothered  indignation  were 
aggravated  by  this  preference  of  his  rivals  and  antagonists. 
In  what  negociations  he  w^as  occupied  during  the  next  few 
months,  we  are  not  informed ;  but  before  the  close  of  Septem- 
ber, 1522,  the  Emperor  had  improved  his  opportunity  so  well 
that  the  terms  of  Bourbon's  treason  were  already  arranged, 
and  were  known  to  Wolsey.'-^  They  must  already  have  been 
some  time  under  discussion,  for  Boleyn  and  Sampson  were 
instructed  to  tell  the  Emperor  that  the  King  was  informed 
*'  by  such  advertisements  as  were  lately  given  to  the  King's 
admiral  (Surrey)  by  M.  Beaurain,  that  Bourbon,  not  being 
contented  with  the  inordinate  and  sensual  governance  that  is 
used  by  the  French  king,  is  much  inclined,  and  in  manner 
determined,  to  reform  and  redress  the  insolent  demeanors  of 
the  said  King,  and  such  other  indiscreet  and  light  counsellors 
as  have  induced  him  to  this  great  folly  and  danger  that  he 
now  standeth  in."  They  are  further  informed  that  the  Duke 
is  minded  to  have  in  marriage  one  of  the  Emperor's  sisters  ; 
and  that  the  King  had  been  given  to  understand  that  this 
offer,  often  made  before,  had  lately  been  renewed  by  Be  Cares 
(D'Escars),^  cousin  german  to  Bourbon.     Moreover  the  Duke, 

'   ITT.  2522.  '  In    order  to  communicatG  with 

^  See  III.  p.   1091  and  No.  2450,  Beaurain  without  excitino:  suspicion, 

which   should    be   placed   under  the  D'Escars  had  arranged  witli  him  that 

same    date.      The    instructions    from  a  servant  of  the  latter  i?hould  advance 

which  the  facts  mentioned  in  the  text  so  far  beyond  the  lines  as  to  bo  taken 

are  taken  reached  Boleyn  and  Samp-  prisoner,    and    broujiht    to    Beaurain. 

son,  then  in  Valladolid,  on  the  16th  It   appears    that    Suffolk  was    in  tho 

of   December    (cf.  No.  2772).     They  camp  at  the  time,  to  whom  Beaurain 

had    been    long   under  consideration,  communicated  this  important  informa- 

and  were  first  intended  for  Spinelly  ;  tion.     Months    had   elapsed,  and   yet 

but  on  the  news  of  his  death,  which  Charles  had  never  breathed  a  whisi)er 

happened  in    Spain,  31st  of   August,  of  this  negociation  to  tho  King  or  to 

tho  names  of    Boleyn   and    Sampson  Wolsey.     It  is  scarcely  possible  tliat 

were  substituted  in  Spinelly's  place.  he  was  not  aware  of  it.     This,  I  think. 

The  paper  must  have  been  drawn  up  is  the  hidden  meaning  of  the  circuni- 

in  September  or  October.  stantial  and   oxpausivo  candour  dia- 


460  THE   REIGX   OF  HEXRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

it  is  added,  was  unwilling  at  first  that  his  proposal  should  be 
made  known  to  the  King  of  England;  hut  now,  in  considera- 
tion of  his  union  with  the  Emperor  and  his  title  to  France, 
Bourbon  had  consented  to  join  with  500  men-at-arms  and 
10,000  foot.  The  King  further  proposes  that  the  Emperor 
should  send  Beaurain  in  disguise  to  negociate  with  Bourbon  ; 
for,  if  this  affair  succeeded,  he  thought  that  most  part  of  the 
nobles  of  France  would  follow  the  example. 

The  English  ambassadors  found  the  Emperor  at  first  little 
inclined  to  be  communicative.  He  made  excuses ;  complained 
of  poverty ;  declined  to  raise  more  than  the  ordinary  number 
of  men  ;  said  that  half  the  expenses  of  the  Duke  ought  to  be 
borne  by  the  King ;  that  as  to  giving  Bourbon  the  hand  of 
one  of  his  sisters,  he  must  deliberate,  for  one  of  them 
(Catharine)  had  been  j)romised  already  to  the  Duke  of  Saxony 
with  200,000  florins.  Therefore,  he  proposed  to  comj)ound 
with  Bourbon,  and  offer  him  in  lieu  100,000  florins,  of  which 
he  thought  it  reasonable  the  King  should  pay  half.  But 
though  Catharine  might  be  engaged,  his  other  sister,  Eleanor, 
now  a  widow  by  the  death  of  her  husband,  Emanuel  of 
Portugal,  in  1521,  was  at  the  Emperor's  disposal.  But  here 
again  the  indifference  of  Charles  to  all  other  considerations 
except  those  of  his  own  political  advancement  was  con- 
spicuously shown.  Eleanor's  widowhood  exposed  her  to  the 
importunities  of  her  step-son  John  III.  Her  residence  in  the 
court  of  Portugal  was  too  advantageous  to  be  lightly  dispensed 
wdth.  "  The  queen  of  Portugal,"  say  the  same  ambassadors, 
"is  not  coming,"  that  is  to  Spain;  "the  king  of  Portugal 
(John  in.)  is  in  love  with  her,  and  will  not  suffer  her.  She 
has  a  daughter  (Maria)  by  the  King's  father,  and  therefore 
refuses  him  !  "  ^  On  the  same  day  ^  the  ambassadors  wrote 
again  to  say  that,  notwithstanding  the  desire  expressed  by  the 
Emperor  "  speedily  to  set  forth  the  matter  of  the  duke  of 
Bourbon,  whom  he  calls  his  kinsman,  he  has  delayed  it  from 
the  17th  December  to  this  day."  The  delay,  they  thought, 
arose  from  his  want  of  money. 

Meanwhile  Bourbon  had  returned  to  Paris.  Upon  his 
entering  the  court  at  dinner-time,  he  was  invited  by  the 
Queen,  with  whom  he  was  a  favourite,  to  join  her  table,  for 
she  dined  apart  from  the  King  that  day.     "  Francis  hearing 

played  in  the  King's  communication.       of  foul  play;  not  without  reason. 

It  is  evident  from  the  whole  tenor  of  '   III.  2772. 

it  that  Wolsey  suspected  the  Emperor  ^  j^^^  i^^  ^523  .  m.  2773. 


1523.]  BOUEBON  LEAVES  PARIS.  461 

of  his  being  there,  the  more  shortly  ended  his  dinner,  and 
came  to  the  Queen's  chamber.  The  Duke,  seeing  the  King, 
was  rising  to  do  his  duty.  The  King  commanded  him  to  sit, 
and  not  to  rise  from  his  dinner  ;  and  then  sakited  him  with 
these  words  :  '  Senyor,  it  is  showed  us  that  you  be  or  shall  be 
married.  Is  it  truth  ?  '  The  Duke  said  it  was  not  true.  The 
Iving  said  that  he  knew  that  it  was  so  ;  moreover  saying  that 
he  would  remember  it,  and  that  he  knew  his  traffic  with  the 
Emperor ;  eftsoons  repeating,  that  he  would  remember  it. 
The  Duke  answered  and  said,  '  Sir,  then  you  menace  and 
threaten  me ;  I  have  deserved  no  such  cause ; '  and  so  de- 
parted. And  after  dinner  the  Duke  went  to  his  lodging,  and 
all  the  noblemen  of  the  court  with  him."  The  next  day  he 
left  Paris  abruptly.  Such  was  the  account  of  the  rupture 
which  the  English  ambassadors  took  down  from  the  Emperor's 
lips,  and  transmitted  to  Wolsey.^ 

Never  was  more  culpable  weakness  shown  by  a  sovereign 
than  at  this  interview  of  Francis  with  his  powerful  subject. 
His  upbraidings  were  altogether  untimely.  Too  late,  if  he 
had  evidence  of  Bourbou's  treason  ;  too  early,  if  he  had  not. 
But,  like  the  obstinacy  of  the  weak,  the  indecision  of  the  rash 
is  often  more  fatal  than  their  rashness.  Treason,  "like  the 
word  of  a  lie,"  is  the  hardest  stone  a  sovereign  can  throw  at 
a  subject ;  and,  therefore,  should  be  the  last.  If  his  suspicions 
were  strong  enough  to  justify  so  odious  a  charge,  they  were 
strong  enough  to  justify  and  demand  the  apprehension  of 
Bourbon. 

It  was  not  thus  that  Henry  VIII.  would  have  acted.  No 
reckless  generosity,  no  chivalrous  disinclination  to  take  an 
unfair  advantage,  would  have  prevented  him  from  at  once 
securing  the  person  of  his  enemy  under  such  circumstances. 
He  would  not  have  presumed  on  the  innocence  of  the  man  he 
had  once  openly  accused  of  guilt.  The  culprit  must  have 
produced  satisfactory  evidence  to  substantiate  his  innocence, 
or  have  suffered  if  he  could  not. 

Boleyn  and  Sampson  expressed  their  astonishment  at 
Bourbon's  escape  ;  and  well  they  might.  Perhaps  they  were 
thinking  of  the  fate  of  Buckingham. 

At  tlie  urgent  request  of  the  English  ambassadors,  the 
Emperor  consented,  on  the  14th  of  January,  1523,  that 
Beaurain  should  be  sent  with  letters  to  the  Duke  ;  within  a 
few  days  he  altered  his  mind,  and  Beaurain  was  despatched 

'  III.  2879. 


462 


THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VHI. 


[A.D. 


to  England.^  "  Since  the  coming  of  De  la  Sauch,"  wrote 
Boleyn  and  Sampson  to  Wolsey,  "  we  have  perceived  no  small 
change  in  the  Emperor."  They  were  at  a  loss  for  the  reason. 
Perhaps  it  is  not  so  difficult  to  divine.  In  the  spring  of  1523 
De  la  Sauch  (La  Chaux)  was  despatched  with  secret  instruc- 
tions to  the  court  of  Portugal.  To  avoid  suspicion  he  was 
ordered  to  take  England  on  his  way ;  to  communicate  to  the 
King  and  Wolsey  the  ostensible  purpose  of  his  mission ;  that 
is,  to  take  their  advice  about  the  marriage  of  the  new  King  of 
Portugal  with  one  of  the  Emperor's  sisters.  But  there  was  a 
secret  article  in  La  Chaux's  instructions,  which  he  was  not  to 
communicate  to  any  one — not  even  to  the  most  intimate  of  his 
English  friends.  It  was  of  so  delicate  a  nature  that,  if  the 
King  of  Portugal  inquired  about  the  proposed  marriage  of  the 
Emperor  with  the  English  princess.  La  Chaux  was  to  tell  him 
that  the  Emperor  reserved  it  for  himself  alone,  to  explain  this 
mystery.  Yet,  in  spite  of  the  Emperor's  dissimulation,  his 
secret  became  known  to  Wolsey.  Strangely  enough,  he  had 
received  a  hint  of  it  from  the  Emperor's  aunt,  Margaret  of 
Savoy.  Why  Margaret  should  have  betrayed  it,  I  do  not 
understand.  As  a  Fleming,  was  she  jealous  of  Spanish 
influence  ?  Did  she  regard  the  Portuguese  alhance  with 
aversion  ? 

"  There  was  now  of  late,"  says  Wolsey,  writing  to  Boleyn 
and  Sampson,  "a  matter  of  right  weighty  importance  dis- 
closed by  the  lady  Margaret  to  Sir  Piobert  Wingfield  in  great 
secresy,  to  be  notified  unto  the  King's  highness,  which  in 
effect  was  this  :  that  the  King  of  Portugal  had  not  only  deter- 
mined to  send  a  great  man,  being  in  most  authority  about 
him,  to  the  Emperor,  but  also  the  Queen  of  Portugal,^  with 
the  King's  sister,  who  is  named  a  marvellous  fair  lady,  to 
accompany  her   to   his  presence.     And   forasmuch   as   it   is 


'  Beaurain  did  not  retnrn  to 
Yalladolid  until  the  12th  of  March, 
1523.  On  the  8th  of  that  mouth, 
Charles  wrote  to  his  ambassadors  from 
Valladolid,  that  if  Beaurain  had  left 
England  without  succeeding  in  his 
charge,  his  despatches  must  be  returned 
to  the  Emperor.  The  affair,  he  said, 
had  already  been  so  badly  managed 
that  it  had  come  to  the  ears  of  the 
French  King ;  Bourbon  had  retired 
from  court.  As,  therefore,  it  would 
be  dangerous  to  continue  the  negocia- 
tions,  the  Emperor  thought  it  advisable 
that  Henry  and  himself  should  manage 


their  affairs  apart,  each  by  his  own 
ambassadors. 

This  is  a  sufficient  answer  to  M. 
Mignot  and  others,  who  tax  Henry 
with  caprice  in  first  desiring  that 
Beaurain  should  be  sent  to  Bourbon, 
and  then  authorizing  his  own  ambas- 
sadors to  undertake  the  task.  That 
was  the  Emperor's  own  arrangement. 
"  La  mobilite  soudaine,"  in  his  plans 
and  his  alliances,  with  which  this  able 
historian  charges  the  English  monarch, 
was  forced  upon  him  by  the  versatile 
policy  of  his  ally.— III.  2773,  2799. 

'  The  Emperor's  sister  Eleanor. 


1523.]  THE   EMPEROR'S   INSIXCERITY.  463 

doubtful,  what  hath  been  treated  m  Portugal  by  M.  de  la 
Shawe  (Chaux),  and  that  the  sight  of  so  fair  a  lady  being  of 
mature  age  with  the  dote  of  800,000  ducats,  and  the  inclina- 
tion of  the  nobles  of  Spain,  might  be  a  great  temptation  to  the 
Emperor,  he  being  also  in  his  flourishing  youth ;  therefore 
she  thinketh  right  expedient  that  the  King  should  take  a  right 
vigilant  eye  thereunto,  in  avoiding  the  alteration  of  purpose, 
by  blindness  of  love,  which  oftentimes  not  only  breaks  the 
laws  of  man,  but  also  the  laws  of  God."  ^ 

It  is  refreshing  to  find  in  the  barren  sands  of  diplomacj'- 
even  so  small  a  tribute  to  nature  as  this ; — a  tiny  green  leaf 
pushing  out,  as  it  were,  its  verdure  in  some  unexpected  and 
repulsive  nook.  It  is  pleasant  to  see  grave  statesmen  ad- 
mitting that  there  is  a  touch  of  nature  stronger  than  green 
wax  and  inky  parchment.  On  one  side  was  Isabella  of 
Portugal,  "a  marvellous  fair  lady,"  with  800,000  ducats;  on 
the  other,  a  princess  young  but  not  fair,  an  exacting  father- 
in-law,  an  imperious  Cardinal,  obligations  more  convenient  to 
assume  than  to  keep.  Charles  had  not  fulfilled  any  one  of 
his  promises.  In  the  late  war  the  English  troops  had  been 
feebly  supported  ;  they  had  been  left  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the 
invasion.  The  pay  of  the  Spanish  troops  had  been  allowed 
to  fall  in  arrears,  and  they  were  ready  to  mutiny.  At  the 
moment  when  their  presence  was  most  necessary  they  had 
been  suddenly  withdrawn.  In  addition  to  these  well-founded 
causes  of  complaint,  the  Emperor  had  not  refunded  a  single 
ducat  of  the  indemnity  he  had  promised  to  the  King  and 
Wolsey ;  ^  and  there  was  little  prospect  of  his  doing  so. 
Piecriminations  followed.  Wolsey,  irritated  and  impatient, 
reproached  the  Emperor  with  breaking  his  promises ;  Charles 
retorted  by  asserting  that  he  had  failed  in  nothing  except  in 
deferring  the  indemnity,  which  Wolsey  told  him  at  Bruges 
was  insisted  on  merely  as  a  form  to  satisfy  the  Council.  He 
proposed,  with  consummate  coolness  and  effrontery,  that  the 
King  should  borrow  the  money,  and  he  would  engage  to  repay 
it,  principal  and  interest,  within  a  year.  Such  a  proposal 
was  little  better  than  an  insult. 

Charles  wavered.  Could  he  have  retracted  with  dignity, 
or  consistently  with  his  own  interests,  he  would,  even  at  that 
late  hour,  have  broken  all  his  engagements,  and  made  peace 

'    HI.  p.  lOni.  by  Henry  VTTT.  as  indemnity  for    tho 

*  He  had  cnf;af?od  by  the  treaty  of       ]>(!nsionshitlierto  received  from  France. 
Windsor  to  pay  loU.OOO  g.  c.  advanced       Soo  HI.  Utii),  'MO. 


464 


THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII. 


[AD. 


with  France.  As  early  as  the  middle  of  February  the  same 
year,  in  violation  of  his  arrangements  with  England,  he  had 
taken  some  steps  in  this  direction.  He  had  sent  ample  powers 
to  the  Pope  to  conclude  a  treaty  with  his  formidable  rival.^ 
Through  the  Archbishop  of  Bari,  tempting  proposals  had  been 
made  to  him  at  the  same  time  by  Francis  I. ;  who  was  wilHng 
to  deliver  Fontarabia,  and  resign  all  his  claims  on  Novara 
and  Naples,  on  the  sole  condition  of  retaining  Milan.  That 
one  condition  disconcerted  the  project.  Sore  pressed  as  he 
was  on  all  sides,  Francis  refused  to  abandon  his  Italian  con- 
federates. But  for  this,  Charles  would  have  accepted  the 
treaty,  and  have  left  his  English  ally  to  shift  for  himself.^ 
By  the  obstinacy  of  Francis  the  treason  of  Bourbon  was 
crowned  with  success.  Thus  the  way  was  paved  to  the  ruin 
of  France  and  the  captivity  of  its  King.^ 

Shut  out  from  this  hope,  Charles  consented  at  last  to 
enter  seriously  into  negociations  with  Bourbon;  but  on  one 
condition,  that  the  King  of  England  should  contribute  half 
the  expenses.  That  meant,  in  effect,  as  it  always  did  mean, 
that  Henry  should  pay  whatever  was  necessarj^  for  maintain- 
ing the  war  against  France,  and  preserving  the  integrity  of  the 
Emperor's  dominions.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  the  finances 
of  the  empire  were  exhausted.  Notwithstanding  the  vastness 
of  his  dominions  and  the  treasures  of  the  New  World,  it  was 
only  by  incredible  exertions  and  capacious  promises,  never 
doomed  to  be  fulfilled,  that  Charles  contrived  at  this  period 
of  his  reign  to  keep  an  army  on  foot.  The  despatches  of  his 
ambassadors  are  filled  with  reiterated  complaints  of  poverty. 
Spanish  troops,  Neapolitan  troops,  Swiss  mercenaries,  German 
lanzknechts,  are  in  a  chronic  state  of  insubordination,  for 
lack  of  wages.  At  one  time  Francis  of  Sickingen,  the  friend 
of  Hutten  and  Luther,  the  most  efficient  and  unscrupulous 


1  This  is  confirmed  by  Mr.  Bergon- 
roth's  Calendar  of  Spanish  State 
Papers.  The  Emperor  was  scarcely- 
ashamed  to  avow  his  perfidy. 

2  III.  3031. 

^  It  is  stated  by  Mr.  Bergenroth 
(Pref.  p.  clxxvi.)  that  Henry  and 
Wolsey,  instead  of  availing  themselves 
of  the  treason  of  Bourbon,  "  tried  to 
dissuade  the  Emperor  from  espousing 
the  cause  of  the  rebel ;  "  and  that 
long  negociations  were  required  to 
prove  to  them  "  that  they  were 
utterly  mistaken  in  Bourbon's  inten- 


tions." He  insists  upon  the  necessity 
of  this,  in  order  that  the  corre- 
spondence may  not  be  misinterpreted. 
This  assertion  of  Mr.  Bergenroth's  is 
the  reverse  of  the  facts,  as  may  be 
seen  by  the  correspondence  of  the 
English  ambassadors  with  the  Em- 
peror. But  then,  in  Mr.  Bergenroth's 
volume,  documents  relating  to  Boarbon 
are  comparatively  rare ;  and  he  had 
not  consulted  our  English  archives  for 
this  and  other  hypotheses  put  forth 
in  his  preface. 


1523.]  THE   EMPEROR   SPENDS   HENRY'S   MONEY.  465 

supporter  of  imperial  claims,  is  on  the  point  of  throwing  off 
his  allegiance,  and  recovering  arrears  by  pouncing  on  Luxem- 
burg ;  at  another,  Margaret  of  Savoy  falls  into  despair  at  the 
obstinacy  of  the  Flemings,  who  refuse  to  contribute  sq  much 
as  a  beggarly  denier.  English  money  advanced  for  the 
Spanish  navy  and  the  confederate  cause  disappears  in  an 
unaccountable  manner.  What  has  become  of  it  ?  Wolsey 
cannot  tell.  "  I  have  in  good  manner,"  he  writes  to  the  King, 
"  showed  unto  the  Emperor's  ambassadors  the  lack  of  wages 
as  well  for  his  army  in  Picardy,  as  also  the  like  lack  of  wages 
and  victuals  for  his  army  by  the  sea.  As  for  Lastano  (the 
Spanish  admiral),  since  the  provision  of  money  for  his 
victualling  by  my  means,  I  never  heard  word  from  him, 
neither  of  the  going  of  his  ships  northward  ne  of  the  division 
of  the  same,  to  my  no  little  marvel."  '  "  The  right  moment 
is  come,"  writes  the  Abbot  of  Najara,  treasurer  to  the 
Emperor,^  "  to  ask  for  200,000  ducats  from  the  King  of 
England  for  the  Italian  army.  He  can  easily  spare  them  by 
reducing  his  armaments  in  England,  which  are  greater  than 
is  necessary."  Harsh  as  the  imputation  may  seem,  it  was 
the  Emperor's  purpose  to  make  the  most  of  his  rich  ally ;  to 
light  his  battles  at  the  cost  of  England ;  to  keep  the  French 
King  sufficiently  occupied  at  the  least  possible  sacrifice  to 
himself;  and  thus  secure  Navarre,  Naples,  and  the  North  of 
Italy.  The  conquest  of  France  he  never  seriously  intended ; 
least  of  all,  to  share  it  with  England.     Not  he. 

But  the  obstinacy  of  Francis,  and  his  unwillingness  to 
relinquish  the  Duchy  of  Milan  as  his  rightful  inheritance, 
compelled  the  Emperor  to  digest,  much  against  his  will,  the 
stinging  reproaches  of  Wolsey,  and  hasten  forward  the  arrange- 
ments with  Bourbon.  On  the  29th  of  May,  Beaurain  was 
sent  a  second  time  to  England,  charged  with  a  commission 
for  opening  negociations  with  the  Constable.  What  private 
instructions  he  might  have  carried  besides  we  are  not  informed. 
If  any,  due  care  was  taken  that  they  should  not  be  communi- 
cated to  the  English  court,  for  Charles  insisted  that  each 
power  should  treat  independently  of  the  other.  Provided  that 
England  would  engage  to  contribute  500  men-at-arms,  and 
10,000  foot,  not  omitting  its  share  in  the  support  of  the  Dulce, 
Beaurain  was  empowered  to  enlist  the  Duke  in  the  cause  of 
the  confederates  ;  to  treat  with  him  for  a  marriage  with  one 
of  the  Emperor's  sisters ;  to  arrange  the  amount  of  her  dowry, 

'  State  I'apciH,  i.  104.  *  Murch  23.     See  Bcrgonroth's  CaUiiulai-. 

VOL.  J.  2  JI 


466  THE   REEGN   OF   HENRY   VHL  [A.D. 

taking  care  to  make  "as  small  concession"  as  might  be  on 
the  part  of  the  Emperor.     In  what  way  his  services  could  be 
most  efficiently  employed,  was  to  be  left  to  his  own  discretion/ 
Beaurain  had  no  sooner  started  on  his  mission  than  a 
despatch  was  forwarded  by  Wolsey  to  Knight,  then  resident 
in  the  court  of  the  Lady  Margaret,  with  orders  to  follow  him 
without  delay.     At   this  juncture   Bourbon   was   at   Burgus 
(Bourg  en  Bresse),  whilst  the  French  King  with  his  Queen 
and  his  mother  the  Eegent  were  idling  away  their  time  in 
Paris,  httle  aware  of  what  was  passing.     The  precious  hours 
were  spent  in  visiting  St.  Denis,  and  performing  a  round  of 
devotions.    After  a  splendid  and  solemn  mass,  the  King  made 
his  confession  to  the  prior  of  the  Celestines  at  Paris,  in  the 
presence  of  the  court  and  nobility.     Next  day,  Friday  the 
24th  of  July,  he  left  his  lodgings  at  the  Tournelles,  early  in 
the  morning,  and  proceeded,   "a  grande  devotion,"  to  Ste. 
Chapelle   du   Palais,  to  visit  the  holy  place   and  the  relics. 
This  done,  he  returned  to  dinner;    after  dinner  he   started 
from  Paris  on  his  way  to  the  frontier,  accompanied  by  the 
Queen,  the  Eegent,  and  all  the  nobility.     Two  days  before  his 
departure  he  visited  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  to  take  a  solemn  leave 
of  the   city.     Thanking   the   provost,    the   Schevins   and   the 
citizens  for  the  aid  they  had  afforded  him,  he  recommended 
to   their  loyal  protection  his   affairs  and  his  kingdom,  the 
persons  of  his  Queen  and  his  mother,  whom  he  left  regent 
during  his  absence.^     In  the  midst  of  these  leave-takings  and 
affecting   solemnities  Beaurain  and  Bourbon  were  hatching 
rebellion. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  of  the  17th  of  July,  1523,  when 
Beaurain  arrived  at  Bourg.  Eestless,  suspicious,  dreading 
discovery,  Bourbon,  under  pretence  of  a  pilgrimage  to  Notre 
Dame  de  Puy,^  had  left  Bourg,  and  withdrawn  into  the  more 
mountainous  and  inaccessible  parts  of  his  estates,  establishing 
himself  at  Montbrison.  Informed  of  Beaurain's  arrival,  he 
despatched  two  of  his  retinue  to  bring  the  imperial  agent  to 
his  presence.  Here  for  two  days  Beaurain  was  not  permitted 
to  leave  his  apartment  openly,  stealing  out  of  his  chamber  by 
night,  for  fear  of  detection,  to  visit  the  Duke. 

Among  the  articles  stipulated,  it  was  arranged  that  the 
Duke  should  espouse  either  the  Queen  of  Portugal  or   her 

>  See  III.  3055.  Mondes,  for   Feb.   15,    1860,  p.  887 ; 

2  Journal  de  Paris,  1.39.  from  the  depositions  of  witnesses  ex- 

^  Miguet,    in     llevue    des     Deux       amined  on  the  trial. 


1523.]  THE   INTRIGUE   WITH    BOURBON.  467 

sister  Katharine,  with  a  dowry  of  200,000  crowns.  A  simul- 
taneous invasion  of  France  b}^  the  three  powers  was  arranged 
at  the  same  time.  An  attack  on  Narbonue  by  the  Constable, 
and  on  Picardy  by  England,  was  to  be  supported  by  a  rising 
in  the  interior,  as  soon  as  Francis  should  have  turned  his 
back  ui)on  Lyons.  He  was  expected  to  reach  Italy  about  the 
end  of  August.  The  day  after  Beaurain  departed,  and  de- 
spatched on  the  road  his  secretary  Chasteau  to  acquaint 
Henry  with  the  result  of  his  mission. 

Knight,  who  had  been  ordered  to  act  in  concert  with 
Beaurain,  never  contrived  to  reach  his  destination.  To  escape 
observation  he  had  taken  the  road  to  Basle,  under  colour  of  a 
mission  to  the  Swiss.  From  Basle  he  proceeded  to  Geneva  ; 
crossed  over  the  Jura,  and  arrived  within  ten  leagues  of  Bourg 
on  the  13th  of  July,  hesitating  to  push  on  through  fear  of  the 
plague.  His  movements  had  been  anticipated.  Beaurain, 
after  his  interview  with  the  Duke,  had  started  already  on  the 
13th,  reached  Pomiere,  a  castle  in  Bresse,  and  left  the  next 
day  for  Genoa,  intending  to  take  ship  and  return  to  the 
Emjjeror.^ 

The  failure  of  Knight's  mission  was  unfortunate.  If 
England  was  to  contribute  half  the  expenses  for  the  services 
of  Bourbon,  it  was  necessary  to  know  their  precise  nature, 
and  not  leave  them  to  be  adjusted  entirely  at  the  Emperor's 
option.  It  did  not  promise  well  for  his  sincerity  and  fair 
dealing,  that  in  a  matter  of  such  intimate  concern  to  both 
parties  he  had  insisted  that  each  of  them  should  make  their 
arrangements  with  Bourbon  apart.  The  English  court  was 
not  satisfied.  It  could  place  no  reliance  on  the  Emperor's 
words,  or  the  promises  of  his  ambassadors.  Convinced  that  it 
was  the  sole  object  of  Charles  to  secure  his  own  interests, 
AYolsey  refused  to  listen  to  excuses  or  explanation.  Eesolved 
to  judge  for  himself,  when  Knight's  mission  failed,  he  de- 
spatched Sir  John  Piussell  on  the  2nd  of  August,  in  disguise, 
with  orders  to  discover  the  Duke's  real  intentions. 

It  was  the  main  purport  of  his  mission  to  obtain  from 
Bourbon  a  recognition  of  the  King's  title  to  the  throne  of 
France — a  project  which  Beaurain,  of  course,  was  little 
interested  in  urging.  Further,  Russell  was  to  insist,  if 
possible,   on   the    suspension   of  warlike   operations   for  the 

'  These  dates,  it  will  be  seen,  are  information  iH  furnished  by  Knight, 
not  rcconcilaVjlo  with  the  authorities  who  spoke  only  from  hearsay,  he  may 
quoted   by    M.    Miguet ;    but    as    the       have  been  misinformed. 


468  THE  REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D.  1523. 

present  year.^     Motives   for  this   delay  were   pressing.     To 
create  a  diversion  in  favour  of  France,  Albany  had  for  some 
time  been  preparing  to   pass   into    Scotland,    supported   by 
French  troops  and  assisted  by  French  pay.     The  energies  of 
England,  already  severely  taxed  by  loans  to  the  Emperor,  by 
his  failure  and  incompetence  to  keep  an  efficient  army  on  foot 
unless  backed  by  continual  aid  from  England,  were  now  to 
be  further  tested  by  a  subsidy  to  Bourbon  of  100,000  crowns, 
and  the  transport  of  an  army  into  Picardy.     The  summer 
was  rapidly  waning.     Long  before  their  united  preparations 
could  be  ready,  the  time  for  warlike  operations  would  have 
passed  away.     In  those  days  an  autumnal  or  winter  campaign 
was  out  of  the  question.     Two  wars  at  the  same  time — one 
with  France,  the  other  with  Scotland ;  the  one  of  choice,  the 
other  of  necessity — were  an  insupportable  burthen.    Therefore 
Wolsey  proposed  to  settle  one  before  he  entered  on  the  other. 
The  propriety  of  such  a  course  could  not  be  doubted.     Of 
Bourbon's  artifices  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  Francis  I.,  of  the 
incredible  hesitation  of  the  latter  in  taking  the  necessary  and 
extreme   measures  for    securing  his  powerful  and  traitorous 
subject,  of  the  escape  of  Bourbon  in  the  disguise  of  a  merchant, 
and  his  final  arrival  at  Genoa,  I  forbear  to  speak.     The  events 
connected  with  his  treason  and  escape  have  been  described 
with  great  ability  by  M.  Mignet  in  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes, 
to  which  I  refer  my  readers.^ 

'  Mr.    Bergenroth    condemns    the  Thus,  at  p.  cxxiv.  of  his  preface,  in 

Cardinal  for  vacillating  between  two  proof  of  Wolsey's  duplicity,  he  quotes 

courses  ;    now   advocating    the   war,  a  letter  of  Du   Prat,  dated   Jan.  20, 

and   at    another  time  denouncing  it,  1522,  as  if  it  referred  to   1522;  and 

according    to     the     caprice    of    the  yet  he  has  elsewhere  quoted  the  same 

moment  or  the  dictates  of  his  avarice  ;  letter,    rightly    enough,    under    1523. 

whilst  Henry,  he  says,  "  a  vain  and  The  changes  in  Wolsey's  policy  were 

self-indulgent  prince,"  was  victimized  necessitated,  partly  by  the  change  of 

by  his  minister,  and  sacrificed  to  his  circumstances,  partly  by   the  uncer- 

selfish   manoeuvres.     ]\Ir.  Bergenroth  tainty  of  the  Emperor's  proceedings, 
quotes,  in   support   of   his  assertion,  "  For  Feb.    15,    1860.     The  docu- 

documents  as  contemporaneous,  which  ments  referring  to  the  subject,  besides 

were,     in     fact,    written    at    widely  those    already    mentioned,    are    III. 

different   intervals,    and    referred   to  325Jr,   3297,   3307,  3308,  3399,  3546, 

different   stages    of   the  negociation.  3601,  3652. 


(    469     ) 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    PARLIAMENT    OF    1523. 

For  England  to  carry  on  a  war  of  such  magnitude  with  its 
ordinary  resources  was  impossible.  Therefore,  once  more, 
after  an  interval  of  eight  years, ^  the  King  thought  right  to 
summon  a  Parliament.  There  was  no  wish  on  the  part  of  the 
nation  to  throw  obstacles  in  the  King's  way.  Not  only  was 
Henry  popular  with  his  subjects,  but  if  his  popularity  had 
been  on  the  wane,  no  more  effectual  means  of  restoring  it 
could  have  been  devised  than  the  prospect  of  a  war  with 
France.  In  addition  to  the  strong  feelings  of  aversion  created 
by  national  rivalry  and  antipathy,  popular  animosity  had 
been  stimulated  by  the  bickerings  and  disputes  between  the 
commanders  of  English  and  French  merchant  ships,  and  their 
incessant  conflicts  in  the  Channel.  Old  claims  for  reparation 
of  injuries  had  stood  over  for  the  last  five  years  without  any 
satisfactory  adjustment.  The  English  merchant  fleet,  accus- 
tomed to  trade  with  Bordeaux  for  most  of  the  wine  then 
consumed  in  England,  had  been  either  stopped  in  the  passage 
or  seized  in  the  port.  Wine  was  not  to  be  had  at  any  cost  ; 
the  gentry  and  nobility  of  England  were  reduced  for  the 
present  to  their  native  beer,  or  to  the  small  quantity  of  sweet 
wines  imported  from  the  Levant  in  the  Venetian  galleys. 
And,  as  if  these  wrongs  had  not  constituted  provocations  enough, 
there  was  the  damning  fact  that  Francis  I.  was  aiding  the 
Scots  to  invade  England,  and  was  attempting  to  set  up  a  rival 
claimant  to  the  throne  in  the  person  of  the  exiled  De  la  Pole. 
That  was  an  offence  no  Englishman  would  or  could  forgive  or 
forget.     So  the  Parliament  met  in  great  good  humour. 

Its  history  is  more  than  usually  interesting.  It  brought 
together  for  the  first  time,  and  into  personal  contact,  three  of 
the  most  remarkable  men  of  the  reign — Wolsey,  Thomas  More, 
and  Thomas  Cromwell.     It  is  the  first,  I  believe,  in  our  par- 

'  In  round  numbers  ;  viz.  Dec.  1515,  to  Ainil,  1523. 


470  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

liamentary  annals,  of  which  something  beyond  the  regular 
official  report  has  been  preserved  in  the  correspondence  of  the 
times.  As  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel,  the  personal  views,  the 
genius,  the  character  of  its  more  prominent  members,  now 
rise  into  a  significance  of  clearness  such  as  is  not  visible  in 
the  meagre  accounts  of  earlier  parliaments. 

The  Commons  assembled  in  London,^  in  the  great  chamber 
at  Blaclifriars,  on  the  15th  of  April ;  and  on  Saturday,  the 
18th,  Sir  Thomas  More  was  presented  to  the  King  as  their 
speaker.  It  is  probable  that  their  choice  fell  upon  More  as 
much  out  of  deference  to  the  King's  wishes  as  respect  for 
More's  abilities  and  unblemished  independence.  He  stood 
high  in  the  King's  favour.  To  the  infinite  regret  of  Erasmus, 
he  had  forsaken  the  primrose  path  of  classical  literature  for 
law  and  diplomacy ;  he  had  wilfully  turned  his  back  on  the 
tempting  prospect  of  becoming  the  first  Ciceronian  of  his  day. 
But  there  is  no  reason  for  supposing  that  at  this  period  of  his 
life  More  regretted  the  change.  His  old  literary  associates 
looked  upon  his  advancement  with  feelings  not  wholly  exempt 
from  envy,  and  wondered  at  the  elevation  of  his  fortunes. 
But  no  man  grudged  More  his  promotion  or  emoluments.  He 
still  retained  his  affection  for  literatiu^e,  was  still  the  loving 
friend  and  correspondent  of  Erasmus.  To  no  other  did  men 
more  readily  or  more  frequently  defer  as  arbiter  in  disputes, 
too  common  at  that  age,  among  rival  scholars  and  theologians; 
and  his  never-failing  wit,  his  kindliness,  his  integrity,  his 
strict  impartiality,  undiminished  and  unimpaired  by  his  high 
position,  gave  weight  to  his  opinions  and  decisions.  No  one, 
perhaps,  ever  wore  his  honours  with  less  haughtiness  than 
More ;  no  one  was  less  dazzled  by  the  favours  of  a  King.  He 
was  now  under-treasurer  of  the  Exchequer ;  was  either  em- 
ployed in  negociations  abroad,  or  attended  on  the  King  as  his 
secretary,  especially  during  Pace's  absence.  "For  the 
pleasure  the  King  took  in  his  company,"  says  Eoper,  "  would 
his  grace  suddenly  sometimes  come  home  to  his  house  at 
Chelsea  to  be  merry  with  him ;  whither  on  a  time  unlocked 
for  he  came  to  dinner  ;  and  after  dinner,  in  a  fair  garden  of 
his,  walked  with  him  by  the  space  of  an  hour,  holding  his  arm 
about  his  neck."  ^ 

Such  condescension  was  not  peculiar,  was  not  improbable. 
Unlike  his  father,  Henry,  in  the  earlier  period  of  his  reign, 
treated  his  nobles  and  his  ministers  with  an  easy  confidence, 

»  III.  2956.  2  Page  21,  Siuger's  edition,  1822. 


1523.]  SIR  THOMAS   MORE   SPEAKER.  471 

Avholly  at  yariance  with  modern  notions  of  court  etiquette. 
Though  he  tolerated  no  diminution  of  services  and  respect, 
was  harsh  and  severe  at  the  least  omission  of  duty  and  ob- 
servance, he  would  at  times  descend  from  his  dignity,  and 
play  the  equal  with  men  of  his  own  choice,  such  as  More  and 
Pace,  and  even  Wolsey.  But  if  careless  observers  imagined 
from  such  instances  of  familiarity  that  Henry  bated  his  dignity 
or  surrendered  his  judgment  to  his  favourites,  none  knew 
better  than  those  favourites  how  little  they  dared  presume  on 
this  condescension. 

But  Eoper  has  preserved  an  anecdote  of  More's  conduct  as 
speaker,  generally  repeated  in  our  English  histories,  which 
cannot  easily  be  reconciled  with  authentic  documents.  After 
reporting  the  apology  made  by  More  on  his  presentation  to  the 
King,  Eoper  proceeds  to  tell  his  readers  how  Wolsey  felt 
aggrieved  that  nothing  was  done  or  spoken  in  the  House 
"but  that  it  was  immediately  blown  abroad  in  every  ale- 
house." To  express  his  dissatisfaction,  adds  Roper,  the 
Cardinal  ventured  on  the  liberty  of  soundly  rating  the  members 
for  their  lightness  of  tongue,  and  declared  his  determination 
to  be  present  at  their  debates  :  "Before  whose  coming,  after 
long  debating  there,  whether  it  were  better  with  a  few  of  his 
lords,  as  the  most  opinion  of  the  House  was,  or  with  his  whole 
train,  royally  to  receive  him  there  amongst  them,  'Masters,' 
quoth  Sir  Thomas  More,  '  forasmuch  as  my  lord  Cardinal 
lately  ye  wot  well  laid  to  our  charge  the  lightness  of  our 
tongues  for  things  uttered  out  of  this  house,  it  shall  not  in  my 
mind  be  amiss  to  receive  him  with  all  his  pomp,  with  his 
maces,  his  i)illars,  his  poleaxes,  his  crosses,  his  hat,  and  the 
great  seal  too ;  to  the  intent  that  if  he  find  the  like  fault  with 
us  hereafter,  we  may  be  the  bolder  from  ourselves  to  lay 
blame  on  those  that  his  Grace  bringeth  hither  with  him.'  " 

The  Cardinal  made  his  appearance  ;  was  received  as  More 
had  proposed  ;  and  after  a  long  oration  in  which  he  advocated 
the  necessity  of  the  subsidy,  he  proceeded  to  ask  the  opinion 
of  various  members  of  the  House,  all  of  whom,  by  a  plan 
preconcerted  with  More,  had  agreed  to  return  no  answer. 
"Masters,"  quoth  the  Cardinal,  "unless  it  be  the  manner  of 
your  house,  as  of  likelihood  it  is,  by  the  mouth  of  your 
speaker,  whom  you  have  chosen  for  trusty  and  wise — as 
indeed  he  is — in  such  cases  to  utter  your  minds,  here  is 
without  doubt  a  marvellous  ol)stinate  silence  ;  "  and  thereupon 
he  required  answer  of  Master  Speaker.  Then  More,  "  reverently 


472  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIH.  [A.D. 

on  his  knees,"  excused  the  silence  of  the  House,  as  abashed 
by  the  subhmity  of  the  Cardinal's  presence  among  them,  and 
showed  him  that  it  was  neither  expedient  nor  agreeable  with 
their  ancient  privileges  to  comply  with  the  Cardinal's  demands. 
"Whereupon,"  adds  Eoper,  "the  Cardinal,  displeased  with 
Sir  Thomas  More  that  had  not  in  this  Parliament  in  all 
things  satisfied  his  desire,  suddenly  arose  and  departed."  ^ 

To  conclude  Eoper's  narrative.  After  the  close  of  the 
Parliament,  Wolsey,  meeting  accidentally  with  More  in  his 
gallery  at  Whitehall,  expressed  his  displeasure  at  More's 
conduct  in  the  chair,  exclaiming,  "  Would  to  God  you  had 
been  at  Kome,  master  More,  when  I  made  you  speaker !  " 
"  Your  Grace  not  offended,  so  would  I  too,  my  Lord,"  quoth 
Sir  Thomas.  Then  artfully  turning  the  Cardinal's  thoughts 
in  another  direction.  More  contrived  to  mitigate  for  a  time 
Wolsey' s  displeasure ;  but  Wolsey  took  his  revenge  by 
assiduously  urging  the  King  to  send  Mr.  Speaker  on  a  distant 
embassy  to  Spain. 

The  story  is  so  characteristic  of  the  two  men,  the  dry 
humour  of  the  reply  so  like  More's  wit,  that  I  feel  more  than 
usually  reluctant  to  challenge  its  authenticity.     And  yet  there 
are  grave  reasons  for  suspecting  its  accuracy.     Allowing  that, 
at  a  time  when  the  functions  and  privileges  of  the  House  of 
Commons  were  not  so  well  understood  as  now,  the  Cardinal, 
not   accustomed   to  respect   too   scrupulously  the   rights   of 
others,   might   take   upon  himself  to  lecture  the   assembled 
Commons,  he  had  certainly  no  cause  for  animosity  against 
More.     Far  from  it.     More,  as  will  be  seen  hereafter,  sup- 
ported the  measures  of  the  court  throughout,  and  entitled 
himself,  for  his  services  on  that  occasion,  to  the  gratitude  of 
the  King  and  Wolsey.     It  was  no  other  than  the  Cardinal 
who  recommended  the  King  to  grant  More  the  ordinary  fee  of 
1001.  for  his  conduct  as  Speaker,  and  a  reward  of  1001.  for  the 
better  maintenance  of  his  household  :   and  he  rests  his  recom- 
mendation on  More's  activity  in  promoting  the  measures  of  the 
court.     "  The  faithful  diligence  of  the  said  Sir  Thomas  More 
in  all  your  causes  treated  in  this  your  late  parliament,  as  well 
for  your  subsidy  right  honorably  passed,  as  otherwise  con- 
sidered, no  man  could  better  deserve  the  same  than  he  hath 
done."      And   he   adds   weight   to   this   recommendation   by 
saying,   "I  am   the  rather  moved  to  put  your  highness  in 
remembrance  thereof,  because  he  is  not  the  most  ready  to 

'  Eoper's  Life  of  More,  p.  18. 


1523.]  COMMENCEMENT    OF   THE   SESSION.  473 

speak  and  solicit  his  ovrn  cause  ;  " — words  as  honourable  to 
More  as  they  are  to  the  writer,  but  wholly  irreconcilable  with 
Roller's  account  of  the  Cardinal's  displeasure,^ 

From  the  following  scattered  notices  we  now  possess  of 
this  memorable  Parliament,  a  more  accurate  judgment  may 
be  formed  of  More's  and  of  Wolsey's  conduct  on  this  momentous 
occasion. 

The  House  commenced  its  sittings  on  the  15th  of  April, 
when  the  mass  of  Sjjiritus  Sanctus  was  sung,  at  which  all  the 
Lords   attended    in   their  robes.     Entering  the   Parliament 
chamber  the  King  took  his  seat  on  the  throne.     The  Cardinal 
of  York  and  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  sat  at  his  feet  on 
the  right  side ;    Tunstal,  then  Bishop  of  London,  took  his 
station   at   a   railing  behind,  and   made  the  usual   oration. 
After  some  general  remarks  on  the  duties  of  kings,  and  the 
reasons  which  had  moved  his  Majesty  to  summon  the  Parlia- 
ment, the  Bishox)  reviewed,  at  some  length  and  more  labour, 
the  evils  of  the  time  which  called  for  redi-ess.     The  oration 
ended,  the  Commons  departed  to  theu"  own  house  to  elect  a 
speaker.     On  his  presentation  to  the  King,  More,  according  to 
the  old  usage,  "  disabled  himself" — to  use  Hall's  words,  from 
whom  these  particulars  are  taken — "  both  in  wit,  learning,  and 
discretion,  to  speak  before  the  King,  and  brought  in  for  his 
purjDose  how  one  Phormio  desired  Hannibal  to  come  to  his 
reading,  which  thereto  assented ;    and  when   Hannibal  was 
come  he  began  to  read  de  re  miUtari.     When  Hannibal  per- 
ceived him  he  called  him  arrogant  fool,  because   he  would 
f)resume  to  teach  him,  which  was  master  of  chivalry,  in  the 
feats   of  war."^      His   excuses,    of  which   this   specimen   is 
sufficient,  were  of  course  set  aside,     Wolsey,  as  Chancellor, 
replied,  "  that  the  King  knew  his  wit,  learning,  and  discretion 
by   long   experience   in   his   service,"  and  thought  that   the 
Commons  had  chosen  him  as  "  meetest  of  all."   More  proffered 
his  thanks  in  the  customary  phrases,  and  requested  the  usual 
liberty  of  speech,  in  the  manner  reported  by  Eoper. 

On  the  29th  of  April,  the  Cardinal,  attended  by  "  divers 
Lords,  as  well  of  the  spirituality  as  of  the  temporality," 
entered  the  Commons  House ;  and,  after  insisting  upon  the 
causes  of  the  war,  and  the  difficulty  of  maintaining  it  without 

*  See  III.  32G7  ;  and  More's  ac-  was  "  not  now  extant  "  (p.  13).     And 
knowledgmont,  No.  3270.  yet  that  More  did  speak  to  the  oflect 

*  It  i.s  curiou.s  that  Roper  should  stated  in  the  text  will  appeal'  by  the 
have  stated  that  this  speech  of  More's  sequel. 


474  THE  EEIGN   OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

great  sums  of  money,  proposed  a  subsidy,  which  he  thought 
should  not  fall  short  of  800,000L,  to  be  raised  by  a  tax  of  four 
shillings  in  the  pound  on  all  men's  goods  and  lands.  This 
done,  he  left  the  House. 

Next  day  the  Commons  met,  when  Sir  Thomas  More  took 
up,  and  reinforced  with  more  than  usual  energy,  the  Cardinal's 
arguments,  urging  that  it  was  the  duty  of  every  man  to  make 
the  required  concession  ;  conduct  in  a  Speaker  not  the  least 
extraordinary  in  this  extraordinary  parliament. 

More's  arguments  were  not  acceptable  to  the  House.  The 
majority  were  of  opinion  that  so  large  a  grant  of  ready  money 
would  not  only  burthen  the  whole  currency  of  the  country, 
but  "  that  there  was  not  so  much  money,  out  of  the  King's 
hands,  in  all  the  realm  " — a  mode  of  reasoning  which  throws 
a  new  light  on  the  economic  and  political  history  of  the  times. 
For  here  was  a  new  source  of  power.  The  Tudor  monarchs 
were  the  national  bankers,  as  well  as  the  national  kings  ;  and 
their  numerous  loans  to  their  nobility,  of  which  frequent 
examples  will  be  found  in  these  volumes,  were  not  only  a  tie 
on  the  loyalty  of  their  subjects,  but  a  mode  of  replenishing 
their  own  exchequer.  Debasement  of  the  coinage  was  an 
easy  method  of  doubling  their  property. 

The  Commons  also  further  objected  that  as  certain  loans 
had  been  aheady  granted  to  the  King,  among  others  four 
shillings  in  the  pound  by  the  spirituality,  the  demand  was 
utterly  impossible,  and  would  reduce  the  nation  to  beggary. 

It  was  answered,  on  behalf  of  the  court,  that  the  money 
demanded  ought  not  to  be  considered  as  lost,  but  transferred 
to  other  hands ;  just  as  in  markets,  "  though  the  money 
change  masters,  jet  every  one  is  accommodated ;  "  and  further, 
that  no  man  ought  to  refuse  to  support  those  who  fought  for 
the  honour  and  safety  of  their  country.  If  the  soldiers,  it 
was  urged,  stayed  at  home  in  idleness,  they  would  still  have 
to  be  fed;  and  they  asked  no  more  now,  when  they  were 
giving  the  utmost  proofs  of  their  patriotism.  It  might  be 
objected,  said  the  orator,  that  it  would  be  the  tendency  of  this 
measure  to  drain  the  coin  from  the  poorer  classes.  Then  let 
the  rich,  he  exclaimed,  go  themselves,  for  the  King  will  not 
refuse  them  this  honour.  But  if  they  desire  to  be  exempted, 
if  they  seek  to  impose  these  burdens  upon  others,  it  is  not 
reasonable  in  them  to  grudge  at  paying  so  small  an  amount 
of  wages,  which  even  their  servants  at  home  would  scarcely 
accept  to  stand  bareheaded  before  them.     If  it  be  objected 


1523.]  THE   DEMAND   FOE  A    SUBSIDY.  475 

that  the  money  will  be  carried  out  of  England,  and  left  in 
France,  will  it  not  carry  with  it  the  men  also  ?  And  thus  the 
expense  of  their  support,  be  it  at  home  or  abroad,  remains 
the  same.  But  in  truth,  he  ^n'oceeded  to  argue,  there  is  no 
force  in  such  an  objection  ;  for  if  "  the  French  had  invaded 
us,  would  the  money  they  brought  over,  think  you,  enrich  our 
country  ?  Should  any  of  us  be  the  better  for  it  ?  The  worst 
then  that  can  happen  to  you  will  be  to  eat  your  beef  and 
mutton  here,  and  wear  your  country  cloth,  while  others  are 
fighting  for  3'our  liberty  and  security."  In  conclusion,  urged 
the  orator,  "you  need  not  fear  the  scarceness  of  money;  for 
the  intercourse  of  things  being  so  established  throughout  the 
world,  there  always  will  be  a  perpetual  circulation  of  all  that 
is  necessary.  Let  us,  therefore,  do  what  becomes  us,  and  for 
the  rest  entertain  so  good  an  opinion,  that  the  war,  instead  of 
impoverishing  our  country,  will  add  new  provinces  to  it."  ^ 

In  the  end  a  committee  was  appointed  to  represent  to  the 
Cardinal  the  sense  of  the  House.  But  Wolsey  remained  in- 
exorable, as  might  have  been  expected.  The  committee 
meekly  requested  him  to  move  the  King  to  accept  a  lower 
sum.  He  replied  he  would  rather  have  his  tongue  plucked 
out  of  his  head  with  red-hot  pincers  than  induce  the  King  to 
take  less  than  he  demanded.    ^ 

The  debate  was  resumed,  with  little  apparent  hope  of 
unanimity.  Then  took  place  the  scene  upon  which  Eoper's 
anecdote  is  founded.  The  Cardinal  entered  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  desired  to  debate  the  matter  with  the  assembled 
members;  but  he  was  told  that  "the  fashion  of  the  nether 
house  was  to  hear,  and  not  to  reason  but  amongst  themselves." 
Foiled  in  his  purpose,  the  Cardinal  endeavoured  to  remove 
the  objections  urged  by  the  committee,  insisting,  by  a  refer- 
ence to  the  augmentation  of  the  customs,  the  increase  of  dress, 
plate,  servants,  and  luxuries  of  all  kinds,  that  the  riches  of 
the  kingdom  were  greater  than  they  had  been  represented. 
His  conclusions,  warranted  by  facts,  were  very  unpalatable, 

'  Mr.  ITallam,  who  refers  to  this  rests,  I  have  generally  found  that  he 

debate    in    his   Constitutional  History  had  good  authority  for  his  statements. 

of  England,  is  inclined  to  think  that  It   is    not    always    easy  to    trace    his 

wo    arc    indebted    to    Lord  Herbert's  sources  of  information.     He  was  often 

imagination  for  tliese  speeches ;    and  indebted  to  documents,  the  originals 

he    accuses    the    noble    historian    of  of    which  have  since  been  lost ;    and 

taking  similar  liberties  on  other  ccca-  the  abstracts  alone  arc  preserved  in  a 

sions.       The   speech    has   certainly   a  volume  of  his  collections,  kindly  lent 

modern  air;  but  though  I  know  not  to  mo  by  the  society  of  Jesus  College, 

on    what     evidence     this     particular  Oxford, 
passage    of    Lord    Herbert's   history 


476 


THE  EEIGN  OP  HENRY  VIII. 


[A.D. 


as  might  be  imagined,  to  the  audience  whom  he  wished  to 
concihate.^ 

At  last,  after  an  obstinate  debate,  it  was  proposed  to  grant 
the  King  two  shilhngs  in  the  pomid  from  incomes  of  20Z.  and 
upwards ;  from  incomes  under  that  amount,  but  above  40s., 
one  shilling  in  the  pound;  and  from  incomes  under  40s., 
where  the  possessor  was  sixteen  years  old  and  upwards,  four- 
pence  in  the  pound  ;  the  whole  to  be  paid  in  two  years.  The 
proposal  was  creditable  to  the  discernment  and  liberality  of 
the  House  of  Commons.  Not  so  thought  Wolsey.  "  The 
grant,"  says  Hall,  whose  accuracy  is  remarkable  on  this 
subject,  "was  reported  to  the  Cardinal,  which  therewith  was 
sore  discontent,  and  said  that  the  lords  had  granted  4s.  in  the 
pound ;  which  was  proved  untrue,  for  indeed  they  had  granted 
nothing,  but  hearkened  all  upon  the  Commons."  ^ 

It  will  appear  strange  to  those  who  have  taken  their  views 
of  the  functions  of  the  House  of  Commons  from  modern 
practice,  or  the  claims  put  forth  by  the  House  in  its  contro- 
versies with  the  Stuart  kings,  that  not  only  this  grant  should 
have  been  objected  to  by  the  Cardinal,  in  his  capacity  of  Lord 
Chancellor,  but  that  his  veto  should  have  been  deemed  suffi- 
cient to  invalidate  a  money  grant  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
More  than  this  ;  whatever  the  practice  or  the  theory  be  at 
present,  however  ancient  the  date  of  its  privilege,  in  the  reign 
of  Henry  VIII.  the  concurrence  of  the  House  of  Lords  in  a 
vote  of  supplies  was  something  more  than  a  mere  formality. 
It  may  be  objected,  that  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  was  of  too 
exceptional  a  character  to  be  drawn  into  precedent.  Without 
examining  the  ground  on  which  this  objection  is  founded,  it  is 
enough  for  me  to  observe,  that  this  House,  of  which  More 
was  the  Speaker,  was  by  no  means  ignorant  of  its  peculiar 
privileges.  The  most  violent  opposers  of  the  court  measures 
never  insisted  on  the  unconstitutional  nature  of  the  proceed- 
In  fact,  whatever  the  authors  of  the  Petition  of  Eights 


mgs 


•  Hall's  comment  on  this  speech 
is  highly  carious.  He  is  not  struck 
any  more  than  others  o£  his  con. 
temporaries  with  the  unconstitutional 
proceeding  of  the  Cardinal  in  entering 
the  House  of  ComniouB,  but  with  the 
arguments  employed  by  him,  which 
would  now  be  considered  as  strictly 
parliamentary.  When  the  Cardinal 
"  was  departed  out  of  the  House,"  he 
adds   (p.   G56),  "it  was  proved  that 


honest  apparel  of  the  commodities  of 
this  realm  (i.e.  home  manufactures), 
abundance  of  plate,  and  honest  viands, 
were  profitable  to  the  realm,  and  not 
prodigal."  So  the  old  sophism  which 
puzzled  the  moralists  of  the  18th  and 
the  political  economists  of  the  19th 
century,  is  somewhat  older  than  has 
been  generally  imagined. 
2  Hall,  p.  657. 


1523.]  THE   DEMAND   FOR   A   SUBSIDY.  477 

might  afterwards  allege  against  the  arbitrary  acts  of  the 
crown  under  Charles  I.  as  contrary  to  "law  and  custom," 
they  could  not  have  justified  their  assertion  by  appealing  to 
the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  By  the  practice  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  it  would  not  have  been  difiicult  to  show  that  every 
one  of  the  measures  denounced  by  the  Parliament  of  1628 
were  in  ordinary  use  among  the  Tudors.  But  that  age  was 
more  antiquarian  than  historical. 

To  return.  Whether  any  attempts  were  made  by  Wolsey 
to  form  a  party  in  the  house,  as  was  common  enough  in  after 
times,  I  have  not  been  able  to  discover.  Sir  Nicholas  Vaux, 
Sir  Wm.  Sandys,  Sir  Maurice  Berkeley,  all  of  whom  had 
been  frequently  employed  by  the  Crown,  and  most  of  whom 
still  held  offices  under  it,  were  summoned  as  peers  to  the 
Upper  House, ^  We  must  add  to  their  number  Sir  Henry 
Marney,  created  Baron  Marney,  and  Sir  Arthur  Plantagenet, 
created  Viscount  Lisle,  of  whom  more  will  be  heard  hereafter. 
In  the  Lower  House,  a  party  consisting  chiefly  of  those  who 
were  knights  of  the  shire,  and  in  the  King's  service,  made 
a  resolute  stand  for  the  measures  of  the  court.  Sir  John 
Hussey,  of  Lincolnshire,  afterwards  executed  for  the  part  he 
took  in  the  Lincolnshire  rebellion,  then  master  of  the  King's 
Wards,  appealed  to  the  country  party  :  "  Let  us  gentlemen," 
he  said,  "  of  50/.  land  and  upwards  " — the  expression  "  us 
gentlemen  "  is  worth  noting — "  give  to  the  King,  of  our  lands 
1.9.  in  the  pound,  to  be  paid  in  three  years."  ^  When  the 
question  was  put,  ten  or  twelve  gentlemen  said  Yea ;  and 
when  the  Nay  was  put,  "  the  Commons,"  that  is  the  members 
for  the  boroughs,  declined  to  vote  upon  the  question,  leaving 
the  gentlemen  to  tax  themselves  if  they  pleased ;  "  and  so 
by  ten  or  twelve  persons  the  gentlemen  were  burthened  with 
l.s.  more  than  others ;  for  the  which  grant  Sir  John  Hussey 
had  much  evil  will."^  This  motion  was  carried  on  the  2l8t 
of  May. 

Whilst  the  question  was  still  under  discussion,  the  follow- 
ing account  of  the  debates  was  sent  on  the  14th  of  May  to 

'  III.  2982.     This  is  remarkable,  Acts  had  as  yet  passed  the  Lords  and 

for  more  reasons  than  one,  as  bearing  Commons. 

on  the  claim,  latc^ly  revived    by  the  ^  As  I  understand  it,  "  for  throe 

descendants  of  the  Borkelcys,  to  sit  years." 

aa  barons  by  tenure.     The  information  ^  A    letter    from    this    Sir    John 

is   found  in  a  letter  of   Sir  Richard  Hussey,  referring  to  the  proceedings 

Lyster,  the  solicitor  general,  to  Lord  of   Parliament,   will  bo  found  in  the 

Darcy.     At  that  date  (April   28)    no  Calendar,  111.  3101. 


478  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

Lord  Surrey,  then  commanding  the  English  forces  against  the 
Scotch. 

"Please  it  your  good  lordship  to  understand,  that  sithens  the  begin- 
ning of  the  parliament  there  hath  been  the  greatest  and  sorest  hold  in  the 
Lower  House,  for  payment  of  two  shillings  of  the  pound,  that  ever  was 
seen,  I  think,  in  any  parliament.  This  matter  hath  been  debated  and 
beaten  fifteen  or  sixteen  days  togiddir  ;  the  highest  necessity  alleged  on 
the  King's  behalf  to  us,  that  ever  was  heard  of  ;  and  of  the  contrary,  the 
highest  poverty  confessed,  as  well  by  knights,  squires,  and  gentlemen  of 
every  quarter,  as  by  the  commoners,  citizens,  and  burgesses.  There  hath 
been  such  hold  that  the  house  was  like  to  have  been  dissevered  ;  that  is  to 
say,  the  knights  being  of  the  King's  counsel,  the  King's  servants  and 
gentlemen  of  the  one  part,  which  in  so  long  time  were  spoken  with  and 
made  to  say  Yea  ;— it  may  fortune  contrary  to  their  heart,  will,  and  con- 
science. 

"  Thus  hanging  this  matter,  yesterday  the  more  part,  being  the  King  s 
servants  [and]  gentlemen,  were  there  assembled  ;  and  so,  they  being  the 
more  part,  willed  and  gave  to  the  King  two  shillings  of  the  pound  of  goods 
or  lands  ;  the  best  to  be  taken  for  the  King ;  all  lands  to  pay  two  shillings 
of  the  pound  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  ;  the  goods  to  pay  two  shillings 
of  the  pound  from  twenty  pounds  upwards  ;  and  from  forty  shillings  of 
goods  to  twenty  pounds  to  pay  16d  of  the  pound;  and  under  forty 
shillings  every  person  to  pay  8d.  ;  this  to  be  paid  in  two  years.  I  have 
heard  no  man  in  my  life  that  can  remember  that  ever  there  was  given  to 
any  one  of  the  King's  ancestors  half  so  much  at  one  grant,  nor  I  think 
there  was  never  such  a  precedent  seen  before  this  time.  I  beseech 
Almighty  God  it  may  be  well  and  peaceably  levied,  and  surely  paid  unto 
the  King's  grace  without  grudge,  and  specially  without  losing  the  good 
wills  and  true  hearts  of  his  subjects,  which  I  reckon  a  far  greater  treasure 
for  a  king  than  gold  or  silver  ;  and  the  gentlemen  which  must  take  pain 
to  levy  this  money  aniongst  the  King's  subjects,  I  think,  shall  have  no 
little  business  about  the  same. 

"  My  lord  Cardinal  hath  promised  on  his  faith  that  the  two  shillings 
of  the  pound  loan  money  shall  be  paid  with  a  good  w[ill]  and  with  thank  ; 
but  no  day  is  appointed  thereof. 

"  I  think  now  that  this  matter  is  so  far  passed  that  the  parliament 
will  soon  be  ended. 

"  Also  the  Convocation  amongst  the  priests,  the  first  day  of  their 
appearance,  as  soon  as  mass  of  the  Holy  Ghost  at  Paul's  was  done,  my 
lord  Cardinal  accited  all  them  to  appear  before  him  in  his  Convocation  at 
Westminster  ;  which  so  did.  And  there  was  another  mass  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  within  six  or  seven  days  the  priests  proved  that  all  that  my 
lord  Cardinal's  Convocation  should  do,  it  should  be  void,  because  that  the 
summons  was  to  appear  before  my  lord  of  Canterbury  ;  which  thing  so 
espied  my  lord  Cardinal  hath  addres[sed]  out  of  new  citations  into  every 
country,  commanding  the  priests  to  appear  before  him  eight  days  after  the 
Ascension,  and  then  I  think  they  shall  have  the  third  mass  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.     I  pray  God  the  Holy  Ghost  be  amongst  them  and  us  both. 

"  I  do  tremble  to  remember  the  end  of  all  these  high  and  new  enter- 
prises, for  oftentimes  it  hath  been  seen  that  to  a  new  enterprise  there 
followeth  a  new  manner  and  strange  sequel.  God  of  His  mercy  send  his 
Grace  of  such  fashion  that  it  may  be  all  for  the  best. 

"  I  ascertain  you  of  the  king  of  Denmark's  being  in  Flaunders  with 
xvii.  ships  with  his  wife  and  children.  Me  seemeth  I  should  not  write  it 
unto  you,  because  I  think  ye  be  advertised  thereof  by  post. 

"  How  this  two  shillings  of  the  pound  shall  be  levied,  of  what  manner 
or  at  what  days  it  shall  be  paid,  in  good  faith  I  know  not  as  yet. 


1523.]  PARLIAMENT   PROROGUED.  479 

"  Out  of  Spain,  we  have  news  that  there  is  a  truce  or  abstinence  of  war 
taken  between  the  Emperor  and  them  of  France,  and  I  think  now  that 
this  money  is  granted  so  shall  it  be  with  lis. 

''  Under  your  good  favor  mesemeth,  and  if  ye  think  it  best,  it  were  a 
gi'acious  deed  for  you  to  be  mean  unto  the  King's  highness  that  ten  or 
twelve  thousand  pounds  of  this  money  might  be  bestowed  on  the  building 
up  again  of  the  piles  and  castles  of  our  English  borders,  specially  now  that 
they  of  Scotland  be  prostrate  by  your  good  and  high  policy. 

"As  other  news  or  aftairs  shall  chance,  so  shall  1  be  glad  with  diligence 
t'advertise  you  of  from  time  to  time. 

"My  lord  Pri^'y  Seal  (Ruthal),  my  lord  Vaux,  and  Sir  Thos.  Lovell  be 
all  three  right  sick  at  this  present  day  ;  and  as  it  is  said,  lord  Vaux  in 
great  danger. 

"Written  at  London  on  Ascension  Day,  by  him  that  during  his  life 
shall  be  glad  to  be  at  your  commandments  with  his  service."  ^ 

This  letter,  evidentl}^  written  by  one  who  was  strongly 
opposed  to  the  grant,  and  clearly  no  friend  to  the  Cardinal,  is 
curious  in  many  respects.  The  author  of  it  would  never  have 
ventured  to  speak  with  so  little  reserve,  nor  have  addressed 
such  a  communication  to  Surrey,  had  he  not  been  aware  that 
the  Earl  in  his  secret  heart  bore  no  great  good  will  to  the 
Chancellor.  From  the  whole  tone  and  tenor  of  the  letter, 
from  its  sarcastic  notice  of  the  priests  and  the  Convocation,  it 
may  be  justly  inferred  that  the  writer  did  not  belong  to  the 
court  or  the  clerical  party.  A  feeling  of  discontent  was  then 
springing  up,  destined  afterwards  to  display  itself  with  much 
greater  animosity,  against  the  higher  clergy  and  Wolsey  in 
particular.  In  fact,  the  high  hand  with  which  the  Cardinal 
had  carried  his  measures,  both  in  Parliament  and  Convoca- 
tion, influenced  solely  by  a  wish  to  please  the  King,  tended 
more  than  any  other  cause  to  increase  his  unpopularity  with 
all  classes.  In  his  zeal  for  the  King's  service  he  had  shown 
too  little  consideration  for  the  feelings  of  the  nation,  too  little 
regard  to  the  remonstrances  of  the  House  of  Commons.  It 
was  natural  that,  when  their  opportunity  came,  they  should 
resent  such  arbitrary  conduct,  and  involve  in  the  passion  of 
the  moment  the  whole  order  of  which  Wolsey  was  the  most 
eminent  member.  Alone  and  unsupported,  the  Cardinal  liad 
reached  a  dangerous  eminence ;  how  long  he  should  maintain 
his  position  depended  exclusively  on  the  gratitude  of  a  master 
who  never  suffered  too  strong  a  partiality  for  his  servants  to 
stand  in  the  way  of  his  policy. 

Parliament  was  prorogued  to  the  10th  of  June.  The 
nation  was  in  a  ferment,  and  the  spirit  of  discontent  was  the 
more   to  be  dreaded  as   nine-tenths  of  the  population,  not 

'  See  III.  3024. 


480  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

understanding  the  questions  under  discussion,  assured  them- 
selves that  nothing  less  was  intended  than  a  general  confisca- 
tion of  their  property.  I  suhjoin  a  specimen  of  the  popular 
rumours  sent  up  to  the  Privy  Council  from  the  distant  county 
of  Norfolk,  by  Sir  Koger  Townsend  and  others,  in  the  month 
of  May. 

On  Tuesday  "before  the  Cross  days  last,"  Peter  Wylkyn- 
son,  in  the  vicarage  of  Gej^ton,  in  the  presence  of  Sir  William 
Pygote,  vicar,  Sir  John  Worme,  parish  priest,  and  Agnes,  wife 
of  Wm.  Whitmore,  said  he  heard  it  reported  that  every 
man  of  the  value  of  40s.  should  pay  20s.  to  the  King ;  and 
every  man  of  20s.  should  pay  10s. ;  and  every  man  of  10s. 
5s. ;  and  that  if  every  man  would  do  as  he  would,  he  would 
take  him  by  the  head  and  pull  him  down.  The  vicar  asked 
him  whom  would  he  pull  down ;  and  Wylkynson  answered, 
"Harry  with  the  crown."  When  he  was  cautioned  against 
using  such  language,  Agnes  Wliitmore  remarked,  "And  I  had 
spoken  any  such  words,  I  were  worthy  to  have  been  brent." 

According  to  the  deposition  of  the  said  Agnes,  Wjdkynson 
further  said,  "  And  if  it  be  as  my  master  say,  we  must  have 
three  more  taxes,  and  every  man  will  have  to  pay  half  what 
he  is  worth.  But,  and  every  man  would  do  as  I  would,  we 
should  get  him  by  the  head,  and  bring  him  down."  ^ 

Such  rumours,  greedily  reported,  and  evidently  received,  as 
in  this  case,  with  the  lively  sj-mpathy  and  secret  concurrence 
of  the  hearers,  even  when  compelled  to  turn  King's  evidence, 
show  how  unsettled  was  the  temper  of  the  times,  and  how 
dangerous  the  ground  on  which  the  Cardinal  was  treading. 
A  volcano  was  smouldering  at  his  feet,  ready  to  burst  forth 
at  any  moment,  and  at  the  touch  of  any  accident  to  break 
forth  with  uncontrollable  fury.  In  London,  as  the  borough 
members  emerged  from  the  House,  they  were  greeted  with 
signs  of  disapprobation  they  had  certainly  done  little  to 
deserve.  "We  hear  say,  my  masters,"  exclaimed  the  angry 
crowd  with  ironical  cheers  and  shouts  of  derision,  "that  you 
will  grant  four  shillings  in  the  pound.  Do  so  and  go  home, 
we  advise  you."  ^  In  the  temper  of  the  nation  and  the  House 
of  Commons  at  the  time,  the  first  dawnings  of  that  spirit  of 
independence  may  be  discovered  which  afterwards  manifested 
itself  more  clearly  in  the  Parliament  of  1530.  But  I  cannot 
agree  with  the  statements  of  certain  modern  historians  that 
such  increased  vigour  and  independence  of  the  Commons  was 

III.  3082.  2  Hall,  p.  657. 


1523.]  THE   ACT  FOE   THE   SUBSIDY.  481 

exclusively  due  to  the  novel  circumstances  in  which  the  nation 
found  itself  after  the  death  of  Wolsey ;  or  that  freedom  of 
discussion,  and  the  right  of  members  to  originate  measures, 
unfettered  by  the  Crown,  were  then  for  the  first  time  acknow- 
ledged and  allowed.  In  1530  new  ideas  undoubtedly  came 
with  the  discussion  of  new  and  graver  questions ;  questions 
more  profound  and  more  important  than  any  that  had  ever 
been  submitted  to  the  discussion  of  the  House ;  but  it  was 
essentially  the  same  Commons  of  England,  whether  discuss- 
ing war,  peace,  and  subsidies  in  1523,  or  the  Royal  supremacy, 
and  the  relations  of  Church  and  State,  ten  years  afterwards. 

When  the  House  re-assembled  after  the  recess,  the  knights 
and  gentlemen  who,  by  the  shortsighted  and  selfish  policy  of 
the  borough  members,  had  been  allowed  to  tax  themselves,  and 
impose  a  shilling  in  the  pound  upon  land  assessed  at  SOL 
and  upwards,  resolved  to  take  their  opponents  at  disadvantage, 
and  moved  that  a  similar  rate  should  be  levied  from  goods  of 
the  same  amount  in  the  fourth  year.  The  motion  was 
obstinately  resisted  by  their  opponents ;  an  angry  debate 
ensued;  fierce  recriminations  passed  from  one  side  to  the 
other.  The  advocates  of  the  motion  were  taunted  with  being 
the  enemies  of  their  country.  The  house  divided  :  the  knights 
of  the  shire  voted  to  a  man  in  favour  of  the  question  ;  the 
burgesses  with  equal  unanimity  against  it.  The  dispute  was 
carried  on  with  so  much  passion  and  vehemence,  that  one 
half  of  the  house  was  prepared  to  impeach  the  other  half,  and 
drive  measures  to  extremity.  At  last,  by  the  persuasion 
and  management  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  peace  was  restored, 
and  the  measure  passed. 

In  its  complete  and  final  shape  the  whole  Act  stood  as 
follows :— For  the  first  and  the  second  year  a  rate  of  5  per  cent, 
was  imposed  on  all  lands  and  goods  of  the  value  of  20L  and 
upwards :  2^  per  cent,  on  goods  between  201.  and  2Z.  ;  and  If 
per  cent,  on  goods  of  40.s.,  or  on  yearly  wages  averaging  20s. 
In  the  third  year  5  per  cent,  on  all  land  of  50Z.  and  upwards  ; 
and  in  the  fourth  or  the  last  year,  5  per  cent,  on  personal 
property  of  50/.  and  upwards.  These  rates  were  doubled  in 
cases  of  aliens.  The  Act  was  not  to  extend  to  Ireland,  Wales, 
Calais,  to  the  counties  of  Northumberland,  Cumberland,  and 
W'estmoreland,  to  Chester,  to  the  bishopric  of  Durham,  or  to 
Brighton  in  Sussex. 

It  was  with  no  small  feeling  of  satisfaction  that  Wolsey 
announced  the  result  of  the  measure  to  the  King.   He  had  been 

VOL.  I.  2    I 


482  THE   EEIGN   OP   HENRY   YIII.  [A.D. 

watching  for  some  time,  with  no  small  anxiety,  its  slow  and 
precarious  progress  through  the  House,  aware  that  any  hitch 
or  failure  could  scarcely  fail  of  being  most  perilous  to  himself. 
*'  Sir,"  he  says,  "  though  it  was  thought  by  the  speaker  (More) 
and  others  of  the  Commons'  House  that  the  book  (bill)  for  the 
grant  now  to  be  passed  should  have  been  j)erfected  and  brought 
unto  me  as  yesterday,  yet  nevertheless  the  same  cannot  come 
till  to-morrow  at  the  hithermost.  And  forasmuch  as  after  the 
[introduction  of  the  bill]  into  the  Upper  House,  it  will  require 
a  good  tract  [of  time  to]  oversee  and  groundly  digest  the  same 
to  your  most  profit,  and  that  it  [will  not  be  expedient]  after 
the  repair  of  your  Highness  unto  Bridewell  to  remain  long,  the 
[extremity]  of  sickness  reigning  somewhat  thereabouts  con- 
sidered, it  may  therefore  please  your  Grace  to  give  command- 
ment for  ordering  of  your  provisions  .  .  .  the  certain  time  of 
your  coming  to  Bridewell,  till  such  season  as  [your  Grace  be 
informed  of  the]  exhibition  of  the  said  book."^ 

But  though  this  debate  upon  the  subsidy  excited,  as  might 
be  expected,  the  greatest  passion,  and  was  contested  with  the 
utmost  vehemence,  it  was  not  the  only  subject,  nor  for  modern 
readers  the  most  interesting,  on  which  the  House  was  occu- 
pied. In  a  speech  delivered  by  a  member  of  no  less  eminence 
than  Cromwell — for  to  no  one  else  can  it  well  be  attributed — 
the  whole  policy  of  the  Government  was  carefully  reviewed. 
For  what  borough  he  sate  I  have  not  been  able  to  discover. 
The  accounts  of  his  early  career,  hitherto  accepted,  without 
examination,  on  the  authority  of  Foxe  the  martyrologist, 
cannot  easily  be  reconciled  with  the  authentic  information 
now  furnished  by  state  papers.^  His  employment  as  a  military 
adventurer  under  the  Duke  of  Bourbon,  his  presence  at  the 
siege  of  Eome,  his  subsequent  travels  as  a  commercial  agent 
to  a  Venetian  merchant,  are  either  wholly  fictitious,  or  so 
much  perverted  as  to  be  no  better  than  fictions.^     One  part 

*  state  Papers,  I.  116,  mntilated.  prelates,   partly   to    our    commercial 

*  Foxc's  notions  of  chronology  are  relations  with  Venice.  With  the 
not  the  least  extraordinary  feature  in  classical  languages  Cromwell  appears 
his  work.  to  have  had  very  little  acquaintance. 

*  His  knowledge  of  Italian,  inti-  Gardiner,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  alludes 
mated  by  the  anecdote  of  his  conver-  to  this  with  a  sneer,  in  his  letter  to 
sation  with  Cardinal  Pole  on  the  the  protector  Somerset.  Giving  an 
writings  of  Macchiavelli,  might  seem  account  of  a  conference  with  the  King, 
to  countenance  this  supposition.  But  at  which  he  was  challenged  by  Crom- 
Italian  was  probably  not  so  rare  as  well,  he  intimates  that  Cromwell 
French  in  those  days  among  English-  affected  a  scholarship  he  did  nob 
men  ;  pai'tly  owing  to  the  constant  possess.  "  As  the  lord  Cromwell  was 
intercourse   with    Eonie   and   Italian  very   stout,    '  Come   on,    my   lord    of 


1523.]  THOMAS   CROMWELL.  483 

ouly  of  this  biograj)hical  romance,  in  which  he  is  represented 
as  beginning  Hfe  as  a  clerk  in  the  English  factory  at  Antwerp, 
carries  with  it  some  appearance  of  probability  ;  and  yet  even 
that  is  far  from  certain.  That  he  traded  with  Antwerp  and 
Middelburgh  is  clear  ;  but  this  he  might  have  done  without 
ever  leaving  England.  The  statement  of  Cardinal  Pole,  who 
was  evidently  well  acquainted  with  Cromwell  and  hated  him, 
is  perhaps  not  far  from  the  truth.  He  reports  that  Cromwell 
was  born  of  poor  parents  in  a  small  village  near  London 
(Putney),  where  his  father  carried  on.  the  business  of  a  cloth- 
shearer,^  an  employment  in  which  he  was  certainly  succeeded 
by  his  son.^ 

The  earliest  authentic  notice  that  I  can  find  of  him  is  as  a 
servant  in  the  family  of  the  Marquis  of  Dorset  (Grey).  Cecily, 
the  dowager  marchioness,^  daughter  of  Edward  IV.,  writes  to 
him  to  send  in  haste  her  trussing  bed,  and  deliver  the  tents 
and  pavilions  in  his  custody  to  her  son  Leonard  Gre3^^  The 
exact  date  of  this  letter  is  uncertain,  but  it  was  certainly 
written  some  vears  before  1522.  In  1518  he  was  certainly 
residing  in  London.  In  1522  he  is  addi*essed  as  "  Mr.  Thomas 
Cromwell,  dwelling  by  Fenchurch  in  London  ;  "  ^  sometimes 
with  the  honourable  addition  of  "worshipful"  or  "right 
worshipful."^  At  this  period  of  his  life  (1522)  he  combined 
the   emplojinents   of  merchant,    cloth-dyer,    and   scrivener ; 

Winchester,'  qnoth  he ;  for  that  con-  Phillips  of  Putney,  it  ajipears  that  not 

ceit   he    had     [that]    -whatsoever    he  ouly  did  Cromwell  succeed  his  father 

talked  with  me  he  knew  ever  as  much  in  this  business,  but  that  it  had  dc- 

as  I,  Greek  or  Latin,  and  all."     Foxe's  scended   from  his  grandfather,  John 

ilartyr,  ii.  p.  3  (ed.  1640).  Cromwell,  who  established  a  fulliui? 

1  The  rest  of  Pole's  storj' I  subjoin,  mill   at   Putney.     At  the  same   time, 

as  being  probably   the  foundation  of  the  received  story  that  Cromwell  was 

most  of  the  misrepresentations  already  the  son  of  a  blacksmith  is  not  without 

noticed.     " I  have  heard,"  says  Pole,  foundation;    for    his    father,    Walter 

"  that  Cromwell  was  a  common  soldier  Cromwell,  was  not  only  apprenticed 

in  Italy,  that  be  was  even  a  merchant,  to  that  business  (and  indeed  is  often 

but  made  no  further  progress  in  the  mentioned  in   the   court    rolls    under 

business   than    to   be    a    merchant's  the  a^ias  of  Walter  Smyth),  but  com- 

clerk,  and  keep  his  master's  ledger ;  bined  the  vocations  of  smith,  brewer, 

and  I  know  a  merchant  very  well,  a  and  hostelry -keejier  with  that  of  fuller 

Venetian,  to  whom    he  was   servant.  and     shearer     of    cloths.        Sec    the 

Tired  at  length  of  this  life  he  returned  "  Antiquarian  ilagazine  "  for  August, 

home,  and  took  up  the  business  of  a  1882.     Such  combinations,  strange  as 

lawyer."     In    which,    adds    Pole,    his  they  may  appear,  were  not  uufrequent 

foreign   employments  were   of  great  in  those  days. — Ed. 
advantage    by   rendering    him    more  *  Widow  of  Thomas,  fourth  Marquis 

acute      and     subtle      than     ordinary  of  Dorset. 
Englishmen.     Apolog.  §  28.  ■*  HI.  2i37. 

*  From  some  very  interesting  in-  "  III-  1963,  21G1,  25/7. 

vestigations  among  the  court  rolls  of  "  III.  2394,  2111,  3081. 

the  manor  of  Wimbledon,  by  Mr.  John 


484 


THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII. 


[A.D. 


lending  money  at  interest  in  the  last  capacity,  and  acting  as 
an  attorney.^  In  the  year  1523  he  sate  as  burgess  m  parlia- 
ment, and  in  the  December  of  that  year  he  served  on  the  inquest 
of  the  wardmote,  in  the  ward  of  Bread  Street.^  In  1524  he 
came  into  Wolsey's  service.  He  had  a  wife  and  mother-in- 
law,  named  Prior,  living  at  this  time.^  Of  his  sister's  family 
there  are  many  later  notices.  Among  his  acquaintances  I  find 
the  names  of  the  great  Italian  merchant  and  banker,  Antonio 
Bonvixi,  and  of  Eichard  Pynson,  the  celebrated  printer,  but  no 
mention  of  Frescobald.  Even  at  this  early  period  of  his  life, 
Cromwell  was  remarkable  for  the  fascination  of  his  manners 
and  the  attractiveness  of  his  conversation,  as  appears  by  the 
following  letter  addressed  to  him  by  an  English  factor  named 
Creke  who  followed  the  Emperor  Charles  V.  into  Spain  when 
he  left  England  in  the  summer  of  1522.  After  addressing 
Cromwell  as  "  Carissimo  quanto  homo  in  questo  mondo,"  the 
writer  continues,  "  My  love  toward  you  resteth  in  no  less  vigor 
than  it  did  at  our  last  being  together.  My  heart  mourneth 
for  your  company  and  Mr.  Woodal's  as  ever  it  did  for  men. 
As  I  am  [a]  true  Christian  man,  I  never  had  so  faithful  affec- 
tion to  men  of  so  short  acquaintance  in  my  life  ;  the  which 
affection  increaseth  as  fire  daily.  God  knoweth  what  pain  I 
receive[d]  in  departing.  When  I  consider  our  ghostly  walking 
in  your  garden,  it  make[s]  me  desperate  to  contemplate.  I 
would  write  longer,  [but]  my  heart  will  not  let  me."  ^ 

In  his  speech  ^  in  Parliament,  after  touching  upon  the 
topics  insisted  on,  "  as  well  by  the  mouth  and  report  of  my 
lord  Legate's  good  grace,  as  by  the  recapitulation  of  the  right 
worshipful,  best  assured,  and  discreet  Speaker,"  he  expresses  a 
hope  that  the  preparations  for  war  will  be  prosecuted  with 
vigour,  and  that  their  debates  will  be  made  known  to  the  King 
by  their  "  discreet  and  excellently  lettered  Speaker."  Then, 
after  apologizing  for  addressing  an  "audience  of  so  many  sage 


^  It  appears  from  his  accounts  at 
the  Record  Office,  that  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  lending  money  as  early  as 
1518 ;  but  these  were  small  sums. 
In  1523  there  is  an  entry  of  money 
due  to  him  from  P.  Deornanter,  a 
Hanso  merchant  and  a  spy,  to  the 
amount  of  80/.  ;  in  152G,  from  Charles 
Knyvett,  of  40.y.  ;  and  in  1527,  from 
the  Lord  Henry  Percy,  Anne  Boleyn's 
supposed  suitor,  of  40J.  See  also  III. 
2447  and  2754. 

^  III.   3657.      The    presentments 


are  extremely  curious. 

3  III.  1963,  2394,  3015.  His  wife's 
name  was  Eliz.  Wykys.  See  No.  3502. 
His  family  consisted  of  one  sou, 
Gregory,  and  two  daughters,  Anne 
and  Grace.  He  had  two  sisters, 
Elizabeth  and  Katharine,  the  former 
of  whom  married  William  Wellyfed. 
John  Williamson  or  Williams  married 
his  wife's  sister  Joan,  and  afterwards 
assumed  the  name  of  Cromwell. 

^  III.  2394. 

5  III.  2958. 


1523.] 


CROM^YELL'S   SPEECH   IX   PARLIAMENT. 


485 


aucl  notable  persons,"  he  proceeds  to  detail  the  advantages 
ah-eady  gained  by  the  confederate  arms,  and  the  successes  of 
that  "  fortunate  and  sage  captain,  the  earl  of  Surrey,  who 
remained  in  the  French  dominions  with  a  small  number  of 
men  for  six  or  seven  weeks,  when  all  the  power  of  France 
durst  not  give  him  battle.  I  trust,"  he  says,  "the  same  valiant 
captain  will  subdue  the  Scots,  whom  the  French  have  so 
custuously  entertained  against  us."^ 

He  then  proceeds  with  great  earnestness  to  deprecate  the 
proposal  of  the  King  to  conduct  the  war  in  person,  of  which 
the  Cardinal  had  informed  the  House.  "I  am  sure,"  he 
argues,  "  that  there  is  no  good  Englishman  which  can  be  merry 
the  day  when  he  happeneth  to  think  that  his  Grace  might 
perchance  be  distempered  of  his  health  ;  so  that,  albeit  I  say, 
for  my  part,  I  stomach  as  a  sorry  subject  may  do  the  high 
injuries  done  by  the  said  Francoys  (the  King  of  France)  unto 
his  most  dear  sovereign,  yet,  rather  than  the  King"  should  go 
forth,  I  could,  for  my  part,  be  contented  to  forget  [them] 
altogether." 

Then  enlarging  on  the  dangers  to  the  army,  and  the 
nation  in  general,  if  any  mischance  should  befall  the  King,  he 
insists  on  this  part  of  his  subject  in  a  strain  of  loyalty,  which 
in  any  other  period  of  our  history  would  be  deemed  fantastical. 
But,  in  justification  of  the  earnestness  of  the  orator  on  this 
head,  it  must  be  remembered  that  he  probably  spoke  the 
feelings  of  most  of  his  countrymen  at  that  time.  Personal 
attachment  to  the  King  was  one  ingredient  in  the  general 
loyalty ;  for,  in  spite  of  his  many  failings,  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  Henry  was  popular  with  his  subjects.  The  remembrance 
of  a  past  century  of  civil  war,  and  the  dread  of  an  uncertain 
succession  if  the  King  were  cut  off  or  his  life  were  in  jeopardy, 
justified  any  extremities,  as  afterwards  in  the  reign  of  Eliza- 


'  The  Buccesses  of  Surrey  against 
France  seemed  to  have  produced 
something  of  the  same  effect  on  the 
popular  imagination  as  did  the  wars 
of  Marlborough  at  a  later  period. 
They  are  thus  referred  to  by  Skelton, 
in  his  satire  against  Wolsey,  Why 
come  ye  not  to  Court  ? — 

"  Yet  the  good  earl  of  Surray, 
The  French  men  he  doth  tray, 
And  vexeth  them  day  by  day, 
With  all  the  power  he  may. 
The  French  men  he  hath  fainted, 
And  made  their  hearts  attainted  ; 


Of  Chivalry  he  is  the  flower, 

Our  Lord  be  his  succour  ! 

The  French  men  ho  hath  so  mated. 

And  their  courage  abated. 

That  they  are  but  half  men. 

Like  foxes  iu  their  den,"  etc. 

Ver.  150,  sq. 

And  then  the  poet  insinuates,  as  a 
partizan  of  the  Howards,  who  were 
evidently  leading  theopi)osition  to  tho 
great  minister,  that  these  successes 
would  have  been  greater  had  it  not 
been  for  the  bribes  received  by  Wolsey 
from  the  French. 


486  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

beth,  not  in  arguments  only,  but  in  actions.  The  King  de 
facto  was  a  state  necessity  ;  a  law  indispensable  to  all  laws. 
As  the  speaker  urged  on  this  occasion :  "  How  needful  it  is 
for  us  (considering  in  what  case  we  be)  to  entreat  our 
sovereign,  for  our  sakes  and  his  daughter's,  upon  whose 
wealth  and  circumspect  bestowing,  next  his  noble  person, 
dependcth  all  our  icealths,  to  restrain  his  high  courage  !  " 

Then,  applying  to  himself  More's  illustration  of  Hannibal 
and  the  sophist,  the  speaker  proceeded  to  discuss  the  ways 
and  means  for  war,  and  more  especially  that  most  difficult  of 
all  ijroblems,  the  commissariat ;  insinuating  that  the  harm 
which  could  be  done  by  the  army  in  France  would  not  be  so 
great  as  the  expense  incurred  at  home  by  its  support.  His 
arguments  on  that  head  are  curious.  He  assumes  that  before 
three  summers  were  past  the  necessities  of  the  army  would 
exhaust  all  the  coin  and  bullion  in  the  realm,  which,  accord- 
ing to  his  conjectures,  could  not  much  exceed  one  milhon  ;  for 
if,  he  continues,  the  value  of  the  whole  realm  exceed  not  four 
millions,  as  my  lord  Cardinal  has  told  us  plainly,  of  which 
the  possessions  (the  goods  and  chattels)  are  to  be  reckoned  at 
one  million,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  corn,  cattle,  com- 
modities, apparel  of  men  and  women,  which  were  never  so 
sumptuous  as  now,  added  to  the  native  i^roductions  and  im- 
ports,^  which  are  more  abundant  than  in  any  past  period  of 
our  history,  amount  to  two  millions  more.  So,  he  argues,  we 
should  be  reduced  to  coin  leather,  "  as  once  we  did."  And  if 
the  King  were  made  prisoner,  such  money  would  not  be  taken 
for  his  ransom.  "  If  they  will  nought  for  their  wines  but  gold, 
they  would  think  great  scorn  to  take  leather  for  our  prince." 

After  conjuring  up  this  imaginary  danger,  he  proceeds  to 
discuss  with  great  caution  the  hazards  of  a  French  campaign 
in  all  its  aspects.  To  march  upon  Paris,  he  argues,  would 
expose  the  army  to  the  danger  of  being  cut  off  in  detail,  and 
to  the  greater  peril  of  leaving  strong  garrisons  in  its  rear.  An 
invasion  of  Normandy,  Brittany,  and  the  neighbouring  j^ro- 
vinces  would  involve  the  necessity  of  diminishing  the  main 
army  by  placing  troops  in  the  conquered  towns;  and  the 
difficulty  of  victualling  them  while  they  remained  there  must 
not  be  overlooked.  Past  experience,  he  told  the  House, 
furnished  a  very  useful  lesson  of  the  danger  and  expense 
attending  such  warfare,  of  which  the  King  himself  had  too 
good  experience  in  the  winning  of  Terouenne,  which  "  cost  him 
more  than  twenty  such  ungracious  dog-holes  could  be  worth." 


1523.]  CEO^IWELL'S   SPEECH   IN   PAELIAMEXT.  487 

Tbrougliout  the  course  of  his  argument  the  speaker  in- 
sinuated that  little  real  help  could  be  expected  from  the 
Emperor  or  his  council,  who  were  either  in  the  pay  of  France 
or  devoted  to  French  interests.  "  Even  my  lord  of  Chievres, 
who  was  most  bound  to  the  Emperor,  I  heard  my  lord 
Cardinal  say,  was  corrupted  by  their  policy  and  gifts  ;  and 
since  bis  majesty's  return  to  Spain,  the  governors  of  his 
archdukedom  have  granted  safe  conducts  to  French  and  Scotch 
merchants ;  which  is  a  marvellous  hindrance ;  for  if  our 
commodities  had  been  as  well  kept  from  them  as  theirs  from 
us,  many  a  thousand  French  artificers,  who  have  no  living 
but  by  working  our  wools,  would  have  been  compelled  to  cry 
to  the  King  for  peace." 

When  the  speaker  had  thus,  with  great  ingenuity  and 
little  appearance  of  opposition  to  the  King's  wishes,  demon- 
strated the  unadvisableness  of  a  foreign  war  with  France,  he 
proceeded  to  enunciate  his  own  policy.  He  proposed  that  the 
King  should  devote  all  'his  efforts  to  the  subjugation  of  Scot- 
land ;  for  if  Scotland  were  once  conquered,  then  both  kingdoms 
would  be  brought  under  one  obeisance,  law,  and  policy  for 
ever.  This,  he  said,  would  procure  for  his  Majesty  higher 
bonom-  than  had  ever  yet  been  attained  by  any  of  his  pre- 
decessors, and  prove  "  the  greatest  abashment  "  of  France. 
And  though,  he  continued,  it  be  a  common  saying  that  in 
Scotland  there  is  nothing  to  win  but  strokes,  there  is  another 
saying,  "Who  that  intendeth  France  to  win,  with  Scotland 
let  him  begin."  It  is,  be  urged,  mere  folly  to  think  of  keeping 
possessions  in  France,  severed  so  far  from  us  by  the  sea, 
while  we  allow  Scotland,  belonging  to  our  island,  to  recognize 
another  and  an  independent  Prince.  Let  it  be  once  united  to 
England,  and  all  other  possessions  will  be  easily  retained. 

Making  allowance  for  occasional  extravagance  and  over- 
refinement,  pardonable  in  an  orator,  the  speech  is  remarkable 
for  the  vigour  of  its  style,  the  breadth  of  its  view,  and  the 
general  soundness  of  its  policy.  In  all  these  qualities,  in  the 
accurate  knowledge  it  displays  of  contemporary  and  past 
history,  it  rises  far  above  the  general  oratory  of  the  times.  It 
gave  evidence,  moreover,  of  more  than  ordinary  foresight ;  for 
the  anticipations  of  the  speaker  were  justified  by  the  events 
of  this  war,  and  of  many  wars  in  centuries  to  come.  It 
clearly  bodied  forth  the  policy  pursued  by  the  Tudors  towards 
Scotland,  and  furnished  its  only  justification.  But  what  he 
is  here  satisfied  with  slightly  enunciating  as  a  passing  caution 


■^88  THE   REIGN   OF  HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

became  with  the  Elizabethan  statesmen  a  fixed  idea — an  mi- 
doubted  maxim  :  It  is  folly  for  England  to  aim  at  political 
aggrandisement  abroad,  and  suffer  Scotland— in  effect,  a  part 
of  England — to  pay  homage  and  allegiance  to  an  independent 
Prince.  So,  if  Mary  had  been  a  saint,  if  she  had  established 
her  innocence  ever  so  triumphantly — a  consummation  English 
statesmen  never  could  have  sincerely  desired  or  sincerely  en- 
deavoured to  aid — the  result  would  have  been  the  same.  It 
was  the  policy  of  Henry  VIII.  to  intercept  all  communication 
between  France  and  Scotland  ;  to  bring  his  nephew  to  Eng- 
land ;  to  detain  him  in  honourable  caj)tivity — foreshadowing 
in  this  the  perpetual  incarceration  of  his  daughter  Mary.^ 
But  James,  more  cautious  than  his  daughter,  or  more  popular 
with  his  subjects,  gave  no  such  opportunity  as  Mary  did  for 
admitting  English  interference.  ConsoKdated  under  Eoman 
Catholic  rule,  the  Scotch  sacrificed  their  nationality  to  Knox 
and  presbyterianism,  furthered  the  designs  of  English  states- 
men, which  their  fathers  had  triumphantly  defied,  and  lost 
their  independence. 

If  this  speech  is  rightly  attributed  to  Cromwell — and  I 
know  of  no  one  else  to  whom  it  can  be  assigned  with  greater 
probability,  it  would  justify  him,  as  a  burgess,  in  voting  with 
his  party  against  a  measure  fatal,  in  their  estimation,  to  the 
prosperity  of  the  country.  Yet  the  moderation  of  its  tone, 
the  loyalty  of  its  sentiments,  the  deference  paid  throughout 
both  to  the  Cardinal  and  the  Speaker,  must  have  gone  far  to 
disarm  any  resentment  that  might  otherwise  have  been  felt  at 
an  opposition  so  vigorous  and  so  skilful.  In  heart,  also, 
Wolsey  must  have  acknowledged  the  force  and  accuracy  of  the 
speaker's  reasoning.  No  one  knew  better  than  he  the  diffi- 
culties of  the  design  in  which  he  was  engaged,  or  the  hazard 
of  trusting  to  any  earnest  aid  or  hearty  co-operation  on  the 
part  of  the  Emperor.  In  violence  to  his  best  convictions,  he 
had  departed  from  the  policy  he  had  formerly  pursued  in 
1517  and  1518.  He  had  been  compelled  to  give  way  before  a 
powerful  combination,  to  relinquish  a  peaceful  alliance  with 
France  for  an  offensive  league  with  the  Emperor ;  a  step  from 

'  Abundant  evidence  for  this  asser-  A  stalworthy  stripling, 

hon  will    be   found  in   the   Calendar.  There  is  a  whispering  and  a  whifling 

But  it  was,  in  fact,  so  notorious  as  to  He  should  be  hither  brought ; 

be  openly  advocated  by  Skelton  :—  But  and  it  were  well  sought,  (If  it 

"  What  say  ye  of  the  Scottish  king  ?  ^^  ^°^  ^^^^  managed,) 

That  is  another  thing.                   °  I  trow  all  will  be  nought." 

He  is  but  a  vomifflino-.  Why  come  ye  not  to  Court  ?  ver.  343. 


1523.]  WOLSEY   THANKS   THE   TWO   HOUSES.  4S9 

which  no  possihle  advantage  to  his  honour  or  interest  could 
be  derived.  The  opposition  had  been  humbled  by  the  death 
of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  ;  but  the  ambition  of  Henry  YIII. 
remained,  stimulated  by  Pace,  by  Suffolk,  by  Surrey,  and, 
not  the  least,  by  Katharine ;  in  short,  by  every  one  who 
enjoyed  the  King's  favour,  and  wished  to  usurp  his  confidence. 
In  this  perplexity  the  Cardinal  was  compelled  to  give  waj^  or 
perish.  He  chose  the  former  ;  a  more  circuitous,  but  equally 
certain,  road  to  destruction.  For  not  only  the  death  of  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham  and  the  imperial  alliance,  but  the  exac- 
tion of  the  loans  and  subsidies  required  by  the  war,  and  the 
part  taken  by  Wolsey  in  this  Parliament,  laid  the  foundation 
of  that  unpopularity  which,  fomented  by  nobles  and  by 
satirists,  eventually  prepared  the  way  for  his  fall.^ 

In  the  speech  delivered  by  Wolsey,  as  Chancellor,  to  the 
two  Houses,  at  the  prorogation  of  parliament,  after  expressing 
his  Majesty's  satisfaction  for  the  manner  in  which  they  had 
taken  into  considera,tion  the  proiDOsitions  submitted  to  them  in 
his  behalf,  the  Cardinal  thus  proceeded:  "Whereas  for  the 
furniture  of  the  said  war,  both  defensive  and  offensive,  ye 
have,  after  long  pain,  study,  travel,  great  charges,  and  costs, 
devised,  made,  and  offered  an  honorable  and  right  large  subsidy 
which  ye  now  have  presented,  in  the  name  and  behalf  of  all 
the  subjects  of  this  his  realm,  unto  his  majesty,  his  Grace  doth 
not  only  right  acceptably  and  thankfully  receive,  admit,  and 
take  the  same,  but  also  therefor  giveth  unto  you  his  most  hearty 
thanks ;  assuring  the  same  that  his  Grace  shall  in  such  wise 
employ  the  said  subsidy  and  loving  contribution  as  shall  be  to 
the  defence  of  his  realm  and  of  you  his  subjects,  and  the  perse- 
cution and  pressing  of  his  enemy ;  for  the  attaining  of  good 
peace,  recovering  of  his  rights,  and  redress  of  such  injuries  as 
hath  been  done  to  you  his  loving  subjects,  in  time  past.  And 
semblably,  my  Lords,  both  spiritual  and  temporal,  the  King's 
highness  giveth  unto  you  his  most  cordial  thanks,  as  well  for 
that  ye  have  agreed  and  given  your  assents  to  the  said 
subsidy,^  as  also  by  taking  long  pain,  travel,  study,  costs,  and 

'  There  is  an  obscure  allusion  to  It  is  somewhat  wrong 

this  in  Skelton's  contemporary  poem,  That  his  board  is  so  lonf^ ; 

whose    satire    in    its   bitterest    form  Ho  monrneth  in  black  clothing." 

dates   from  the  year  of  this  pai'lia-  Why  come  ye  not  to  Court  ?  ver.  38 1. 

™®^*  =—  2  So,  in  the  parliament   of   1510, 

"  But  there  is  some  traverse  the  Commons,  with  coiii<ent  of  the  Lords 

Between  some  and  some,  Spiritual  and  Temporal,  grant  a  supply 

That  makes  our  lyre  (Wolsey)   so  of    two-tenths    and    two-fii'tocuths ; 

glum.  and  in  that  case  also  tho  Chancellor 


490  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY    VHI.  [A.D. 

charges  in  devising  such  statutes,  acts,  and  good  ordinances 
as  be  for  the  common  weal  of  this  his  realm."  ^ 

The  words  are  remarkable  ;  for  though  formally  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  Crown  might  appear  in  many  resjDects  irrecon- 
cilable with  modern  notions  of  the  independence  of  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  fatal  to  its  control  over  the  public  expendi- 
tm-e,  this  explicit  assurance  that  the  money  they  had  granted 
should  be  employed  only  for  constitutional  purposes,  that  the 
King's  cause  was  the  cause  of  the  nation,  and  the  injuries  to 
be  redressed  as  much  theirs  as  his,  was  in  effect  a  distinct 
acknowledgment  of  the  great  principle  on  which  all  the  rights 
and  privileges  of  the  House  are  founded.  That  the  sovereign 
was  as  much  a  part  and  representative  of  the  nation  as  the 
Lords  or  the  Commons  themselves — that  the  Commons,  there- 
fore, "  as  the  express  image  "  and  concrete  expression  of  the 
feelings  and  principles  of  the  nation  as  a  whole,  should  reflect 
the  wants,  opinions,  and  feelings  of  the  whole,  and  not  of  a 
mere  part,  however  large — was  a  juster  view  of  its  functions 
and  constitution  than  is  to  be  found  in  the  speeches  of  many 
modern  politicians.  Nor  would  there  ever  have  been  any 
necessity  to  have  fenced  and  guarded  its  just  rights  with  so 
many  ordinances  had  this  truth  been  always  as  clearly  recog- 
nized and  acted  on  as  it  was  on  this  occasion.^ 

In  a  brief  and  lively  letter  to  his  friend  Creke,  Cromwell 
thus  sums  up  the  history  of  this  parliamentary  session  :  ^ 

"  Supposing  ye  desire  to  know  the  news  current  in  these 
parts,  for  it  is  said  that  news  refresheth  the  spirit  of  life ; 
wherefore  ye  shall  understand  that  by  long  time  I,  amongst 
others,  have  endured  a  parliament  which  continued  by  the 
space  of  seventeen  whole  weeks,  where  we  communed  of  war, 
peace,  strife,  contention,  debate,  murmur,  grudge,  riches, 
poverty,  penury,  truth,  falsehood,  justice,  equity,  &c.,  and 
also  how  a  commonwealth  might  be  edified  and  also  continued 
within  our  realm.  Howbeit,  in  conclusion,  we  have  done  as 
our  predecessors  have  been  wont  to  do ;  that  is  to  say,  as  well 
as  we  might,  and  left  where  we  began.  Ye  shall  also  under- 
stand the  duke  of  Suffolk,  furnished  with  a  great  army,  goeth 

returns  thanks,  and   dissolves  it,   in  to  take  off  his  head.     "  On  the  next 

the      King's      name.       See      Parry's  day,"     says    Mr.     Parry,     "  the    bill 

"  Parliaments  of  England,"  p.  198.  passes."     Pari,  of  Eng.,  p.  201.     I  can 

*  III.  2957.  find  no   authority  whatever   for  this 

2  It  is  stated  by  Mr.  Parry,  that  statement ;   and  it  seems  to  me  quite 

when  the  King  was  informed  of  the  irreconcilable   with    what'  is    known 

opposition  made  by  one  of  the  members  of  the  debate. 
to  the  vote  of  supply,  he  threatened  ^  III.  324-9,  Atig.  17. 


1523.]  PAYMENT   OF  MEMBERS.  491 

over  in  all  goodly  baste,  whither  I  know  not  ;  when  I  know  I 
shall  advertise  j'ou.  "We  have  in  our  parliament  granted  unto 
the  Iving's  highness  a  right  large  subsidy,  the  like  whereof  was 
never  granted  in  this  realm." 

This,  of  course,  is  not  to  be  interpreted  strictly.  Besides 
various  private  acts  affecting  the  family  of  the  late  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  Sir  William  Compton,  and  others,  the  House  had 
been  employed  in  regulating  the  sale  of  woollen  cloths,  the 
di-essing  of  worsteds,  the  reform  of  the  coinage,  the  incorpora- 
tion of  the  physicians  of  London,  and  the  iDrivileges  to  be 
conceded  to  those  who  took  part  in  the  war. 

From  this  detailed  account  of  the  parliament  of  1523,  it 
will  be  seen  how  far  the  assertion  is  correct,  that  a  new  spirit 
was  infused  into  the  House  at  a  later  period  of  the  reign, 
which  had  no  existence  in  Wolsey's  administration.  So  little 
jealousy,  it  has  been  urged,  was  entertained  of  the  power  of 
the  Crown  before  1530,  so  distasteful  was  a  residence  in 
London  to  the  burgess  and  the  country  gentleman,  that  they 
were  comparatively  indifferent  to  their  parliamentary  duties. 
Measures,  it  has  been  stated,  were  rarely  submitted  to  discus- 
sion, but  accei^ted  unchallenged  from  the  hands  of  authority ; 
and  further,  that,  to  enforce  their  attendance,  the  expenses  of 
the  members  until  1530  had  to  be  defra3^ed  by  considerable 
salaries,  and  their  presence  secured  by  compulsory  enact- 
ments. 

But,  in  the  first  place,  these  "  considerable  salaries  "  were 
not  confined  to  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  They  reach  as  far 
back  as  the  reign  of  Edward  I.  In  the  time  of  Edward  IV. 
they  were  fixed  at  four  shillings  per  day  for  knights  of  the 
shire,  and  two  shillings  at  least  for  burgesses,  in  addition  to 
the  charges  of  going  and  coming ;  and  they  continued  to  be 
made  long  after  the  whole  line  of  the  Tudors  had  been  gathered 
to  its  rest.^  Secondly,  as  to  the  statute  of  6  Henry  VIII.,  to 
which  reference  has  been  made  as  enforcing  the  attendance 
of  reluctant  members,  the  exact  words  of  the  enactment  will 
show  more  clearly  its  true  character  and  purport.  "  Forso- 
much,"  says  the  statute,  "as  commonly  ///,  tlie  end  of  every 
parliament  divers  and  many  great  and  weighty  matters,  as 
well  touching  the  pleasure,  weal,  and  surety  of  our  sovereign 

'  According  to  Mr.  Parry,  Andrew  by  tlio  sheriffs  on  the  places  ropr(>. 

Marvel,  M.P.  for  Hull  in  the  reign  of  sented,  it  is  not  likely  that  they  would 

Queen  Anne,  was  the  last  person  who  be    uniformly   paid.       Jiesides,    what 

received  these  wages.     (Parliaments,  member  would  enforce  them  if  tboy 

etc.,  p.  200,  note.)  As  they  were  levied  fell  into  arrears  ? 


492  THE   EEIGN   OF  HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

lord  the  King,  as  the  common  weal  of  this  his  realm  and 
subjects,  are  to  be  treated,  communed  of,  and  by  authority  of 
j)arliament  to  be  concluded;  so  it  is  that  divers  knights  of 
shires,  citizens  for  cities,  burgesses,  &c.,  long  time  before  the 
end  of  the  said  parliament,  of  their  own  authority,  depart  and 
go  home  into  their  countries,  whereby  the  said  great  and 
weighty  matters  are  many  times  greatly  delayed ;  " — be  it 
enacted,  that  from  henceforth  no  member  shall  depart  or 
absent  himself  without  licence  of  the  Speaker  and  the  House, 
on  pain  of  losing  his  wages. 

The  object,  then,  of  this  enactment  was  not,  as  has  been 
rej)resented,  to  bring  reluctant  members  of  distant  boroughs 
and  counties  to  London,  and  secure  their  attendance  in  parlia- 
ment, but  to  prevent  them,  -s^hen  there,  from  departing  before 
the  session  was  ended,  without  leave  of  the  House.  Before 
1514  the  members  returned  to  their  homes  before  the  sessions 
closed  without  leave,  as  at  a  later  period  with  leave.  Un- 
doubtedly then,  as  now,  their  zeal  and  attendance  would  be 
quickened  when  questions  of  the  deepest  and  widest  interest 
fell  under  debate.  Burgesses  and  country  gentlemen  who 
might  think  that  discussions  about  cordwainers  or  "  draping 
of  worsteds  "  could  very  well  be  settled  in  their  absence, 
would  require  no  threat  of  forfeiting  their  wages  if  they  refused 
to  attend  in  their  places  when  the  papal  supremacy,  or  the 
impeachment  of  the  clergy,  constituted  the  exciting  topics  of 
the  day. 

Convocation,  as  usual,  was  summoned  by  the  Archbishop 
concurrently  with  the  j)arliament,  and  assembled  in  St.  Paul's. 
On  the  first  day  of  its  meeting,  the  Cardinal,  after  mass,  cited 
the  clergy,  by  virtue  of  his  legatine  authority,  to  appear  before 
him  at  Westminster.^  An  objection  was  raised  against  the 
legality  of  these  proceedings,  on  the  ground  that  the  clergy 
had  been  previously  cited  to  appear  before  the  Archbishop. 
The  objection  was  allowed ;  a  new  summons  was  issued  for 
the  7th  of  May.^  The  convocation,  consisting  of  the  two 
provinces  of  York  and  Canterbury,  again  met  at  Westminster 
on  the  2nd  of  June,  and  granted  to  the  King  a  moiety  of  one 
year's  revenue  of  all  benefices  in  England,  to  be  levied  in  five 
years.^     Of  that  grant  I  shall  speak  presently. 

This  assertion  of  his  legatine  authority  exposed  the 
Cardinal  to  great  obloquy.*     Skelton,  at  that  time  the  most 

1  III.  3024.  3  jjj  3239. 

2  HI.  3013.  *  See  III.  3024. 


1523.]  GRADUATED   SCALE   OF   TAXATION.  493 

poiDular  poet  in  England,  the  most  audacious  and  unsparing 
critic  of  the  Cardinal's  fame  and  conduct,  expressed  his  own 
sense,  and  that  of  many  others,  in  an  ex^igram  repeated  fi'om 
one  end  of  England  to  the  other  : — 

"  Gentle  Paul,  lay  down  thy  sweard, 
For  Peter  of  Westminster  hath  shaven  thy  beard."* 

Nor  did  so  large  a  grant  pass  without  fierce  opposition.    It 
is  stated  on  the  authority  of  Polydore  Vergil  ^ — and  we  may 
trust  him  for  the  facts  (since,  as  Dean  of  Wells,  he  would  have 
taken  his  place  in  convocation),  though  not  for  the  malicious 
insinuations  he  mixes  up  with  them — that   the   grant   was 
energetically  opposed    by   Fox,   Bishop   of  Winchester,   and 
Fisher,  Bishop  of  Eochester.    Eowland  Phillips,  the  celebrated 
vicar  of  Croydon,  the   most   eloquent   preacher  of  his  age, 
signalized  himself  at  first  by  his  determined  hostility  ;  but  by 
the   machinations   of  Wolsey,    says  Vergil,  was   induced  to 
absent  himself,  much  to  the  loss  of  his  reputation.     It  had 
been  computed  that  the  subsidy  granted  by  the  Commons 
would  produce  800,000/.     It  would  be  important  to  discover 
on  what  data  this  estimate  was  founded ;   for,  whatever  may 
be  thought  of  its  policy,  this  first  attempt  at  taxation  on  a 
scientific  and  impartial  basis  is  a  conspicuous  proof  of  the 
genius  and  extraordinary  audacity  of  Wolsey.     After  all  the 
studies  of  the  economists  during  the  last  two  centuries,  we 
have  reverted  to  the  principles  and  almost  to  the  practice  of 
the  great  minister,  who,  with  no  complete  statistics,  no  means, 
no  organization,  such  as  modern  financiers  can  abundantly 
command,  struck  out  in  the  necessity  of  the  moment,  under 
the  pressure  of  a  great  war,  a  financial  scheme,  which  has 
never  yet  been  surpassed  in  the  sweep  and  fairness  of  its 
operation,  or  the  general  correctness  of  its  theory.     That  he 
should  have  stood  alone,  that  alone  in  spite  of  all  opposition 
from  the  clergy  and  the  laity  he  should  have  carried  this  pro- 
ject, are  indications  of  confidence  in  his  powers,  and  in  the 
fertihty  of  his  resources.     Three  measures  had  to  be  passed — 
all  equally  difficult,  in  the  fairness  and  equity  of  their  inci- 
dence, all  alike  sure  to  provoke  strong  opposition,  and  encounter 
the  pressure  brought  against  them  by  the  most  influential 
classes  in  the  realm.     To  no  clamour  and  no  combinations  did 
Wolsey  yield.     That   he   was  justified   in  his  anticipations, 
although,    in   the    strong   prejudices   of  his   opponents,   the 

'  Preserved  in  Uall,  p.  057.  *  Pago  72. 


494  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

burthens  imposed  by  him  were  considered  fatal  to  England,  is 
clear  from  the  fact  that  the  national  prosperity  was  not  im- 
paired by  them. 

Of  these  measm^es,  the  subsidy  granted  by  the  House  of 
Commons  consisted  of  a  graduated  tax  on  real  and  personal 
property,   commencing  at  five  per  cent.,  to  be  paid  in  four 
years.     Tae  tax  fell  much  more  heavily  on  the  clergy,  being 
no  less  than  fifty  per  cent,  income  tax,  to  be  paid  by  instal- 
ments in  five  years.     But  besides  these  grants,   a  property 
tax,  in  the  shape  of  a  loan,  had  been  already  arranged,  before 
Parliament  met,  and  its  execution  entrusted  to  certain  com- 
missioners appointed  under  the  King's  sign  manual,^     These 
officers  had  orders  to  distribute  themselves  in  different  hundreds 
and  wapentakes.     Without  creating  alarm,  or  betraying  their 
intentions,  they  were  empowered  to  make  a  survey  of  every 
man's  property,  and  receive  declarations  on  oath.     If  such 
declarations  were  not   satisfactory,  they  could  examine  the 
neighbours  of  the  declarator  as  to  the  value  of  his  possessions 
by   common    report,    extending  their    inquiries   to   spiritual 
dignities,    benefices,    brotherhoods,    guilds,    hospitals,    mer- 
chandise,   implements,   including    property   of    every    kind ; 
church  plate,  jewels,  and   shrines  excepted.     Artificers   and 
journeymen  moving  from  place  to  place  were  to  be  included 
in  the  returns.     Spiritual  persons  were  appointed  to  take,  in 
the  x^resence  of  one  or  more  of  the  commissioners,  the  oath  of 
such  spiritual  men  as  objected  to  take  an  oath  before  temporal 
men.    The  scruples  of  masters  and  fellows  of  colleges  in  Oxford 
and  Cambridge,  bound  by  their  statutes  not  to  divulge  their 
property,  were  duly  regarded.     They  were  exempted  from  the 
inquisitorial  powers  of  the  commissioners,  and  Wolsey  himself 
determined  the  rate  of  their  contributions;    with  what  un- 
sparing equity  will  be  seen  below. 

On  property  of  20L  and  reaching  to  300/.  (in  modern 
equivalents,  200Z.  to  3,000/.,)  the  rating  was  fixed  at  10  per 
cent.  On  property  from  300/.  to  1,000/.,  it  was  13^  per  cent. 
On  higher  sums  than  these  the  rating  was  left  to  the  discre- 
tion of  the  commissioners.  They  were,  besides,  to  urge,  if 
possible,  the  immediate  payment  of  the  loan,  on  promise  of 
repayment  out  of  the  grants  to  be  made  in  the  forthcoming 
Parliament. 

It  was  calculated  that  the  maintenance  of  the  war  in 
Flanders  and  Scotland,  with  the  expenses  for  the  navj-,  would 

'  III.  2484. 


1523.]  THE   LOAN.  495 

amount  iu  six  mouths  to  372,404/.  18.s,  4/?.^  The  suhsidy 
granted  by  the  clergy  was  estimated  to  produce  in  one  year 
24,000Z. ;  of  the  laity,  if  there  be  no  mistake  in  the  figures, 
104,285?.  18s.  5ld.^ 

Many  of  the  items  of  the  loan  thus  levied  on  the  clergy 
deserve  the  reader's  attention.  It  is  clear  that  Wolsey  had 
no  intention  of  sparing  his  own  order.  The  charge  upon 
himself  amounted  to  4,000/.  (from  40,000/.  to  50,000/.  in 
modern  computation);  on  the  Archbishop  to  1,000/. ;  on  Fox, 
Bishop  of  "Winchester,  to  2,000/. ;  on  London  (only  lately  con- 
secrated), to  333/.  Gs.  8d.  ;  Norwich,  Ely,  Lincoln,  Lichfield, 
Exeter,  and  Chichester,  paid  1,000/.  each  ;  the  rest  smaller 
sums. 

The  Abbots  of  Abingdon  and  Bury  paid  1,333/.  6s.  Sd. 
each ;  Westminster,  Beading,  Bamsay,  and  Glastonbury, 
1,000/.  each  ;  St.  Augustine's,  Canterbury,  and  Gloucester, 
666/.  13s.  4(/.  each ;  the  rest,  sums  varying  from  500/. 
to  20/. 

Each  of  the  priories  of  Christ  Church,  Canterbury,  St. 
Swithin's,  AVinchester,  and  Ely,  were  taxed  666/.  13s.  M. ; 
Lewes,  500/. ;  Leeds,  Durham,  Coventry,  Worcester,  Walsing- 
ham,  333/.  Qs.  8d.  each ;  the  rest,  in  smaller  sums. 

The  Abbess  of  Shaftesbury  was  charged  1,000/. ;  of  Wilton, 
Sion,  and  Barking,  333/.  6s.  8c/.  each ;  and  the  rest,  sums 
varying  from  200/.  to  133/.  6s.  8d. 

Of  the  cathedral  chapters,  Salisbury  was  taxed  at  500/. ; 
Lincoln,  Exeter,  and  St.  Paul's,  333/.  6s.  8t7.  each ;  the  others 
in  smaller  sums. 

Of  collegiate  churches,  St.  Stephen's,  Westminster,  and 
Windsor  paid  333/.  6s.  8(/.  each;  Eton  and  Winchester, 
200/. 

In  the  university  of  Oxford  the  highest  sum  of  333/.  Gs.  8d. 
was  paid  by  Magdalen  and  New  College.  All  Souls  was 
charged  200/. ;  Merton  and  Corpus,  severally,  133/.  Gs.  8d. 
The  rest  i)aid  sums  varying  from  100/.  to  40/.  At  Cambridge, 
liing's  and  King's  Hall  were  assessed  at  333/.  6s.  8d.  each  ; 

'  That  is,  for  tliearmy  inFlancleri?,  the  province  of  York,  boiiipj  the  first 
consisting  of  20,000  foot  and  8,000  fifth,  produced  3,932L  lO*-.  8tZ.  Sup- 
horse,  292,6S9Z.  6.S.  4d. ;  for  the  army  posing  the  same  rate  was  observed, 
against  Scotland,  47,4G0L  ;  for  the  the  clergy  of  the  northern  province 
navy,  27,302Z.  5s.  8c?. ;  for  the  garrison  would  pay,  in  the  course  of  five?  yeiir.s, 
at  Calais,  4,953L  G.*.  8d.  See  No.  19,0Gl.i.  18a-.  M.,  iu  addition  to  tho 
2743.  loans. 

«  See  III.  2483.     The  subsidy  iu 


496  THE  REIGN  OF  HEXRY  YIII.  [A.D. 

Queen's,  at  200Z. ;   St.  John's  and  Christ's,  at  lOOZ. ;  Benet, 
at  66/.  13s.  4d. 

On  individual  clergymen  the  burthen  must  have  fallen 
with  extreme  severity.  The  Archdeacons  of  Eichmond  and 
Lincoln,  Dr.  Chambre,  the  King's  physician,  and  our  old 
friend  Peter  Carmelianus,  poet  and  lutanist,  had  to  contribute 
severally  333/.  6s.  8d.  ;  whilst  Polydore  Vergil,  the  historian, 
Dr.  Denton,  chaplain  to  Mary  the  French  Queen,  Dr.  Taylor, 
clerk  to  the  Parliament,  Mr.  Larke — whose  connection  with 
Wolsey  is  well  known — were  severally  rated  at  200/.^ 

In  judging  of  the  magnitude  of  these  sums  it  is  necessarj- 
to  bear  in  mind  that  they  must  not  only  be  increased  tenfold 
in  order  to  raise  them  to  their  present  equivalents,  but  that 
they  had  to  be  paid  in  current  coin.  Whatever  the  scarcity 
of  the  precious  metals,  or  the  difficulty  of  procuring  them,  it 
does  not  appear  that  the  commissioners  had  any  power  to 
make  any  change  in  the  mode  or  date  of  payment ;  and  as 
there  must  have  been  at  times  a  scarcity  in  the  currency,  the 
sums  paid  rather  exceeded  than  fell  short  of  the  nominal 
rates.  There  are  no  exact  means  at  present  for  deciding  on 
the  amount  contributed  by  the  laity  ;  but  in  a  paper  of  a  later 
date  than  1522  or  1523  the  following  sums  are  set  down 
against  the  names  of  the  nobility  and  gentry,  whether  repre- 
senting the  whole  or  a  part  of  the  loans  contributed  by  them 
I  cannot  decide.  Lord  Arundel,  Lord  Dacre  of  the  North,  the 
Duchess  of  Norfolk,  Master  Palmer,  the  Steelyard  of  London, 
are  charged  1,000/.  each ;  the  Italian  merchants,  2,000/. ;  Sir 
William  Saye,  Lady  Parr,  Lord  Clifford,  the  executors  of  Sir 
Thomas  Lovell,  1,000  marks  each  ;  the  Earl  of  Northumber- 
land, 500/. ;  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  Lord  Marney,  and  others, 
200/.  each ;  ^  and  so  of  many  others. 

Taxation  so  oppressive,  and  yet  so  general,  argues  either 
the  greatest  boldness  in  the  minister  who  projected  it,  of  which 
we  have  no  parallel  in  history,  or  his  well-founded  belief  in 
the  prosperity  and  elasticity  of  the  nation.  Perhaj^s  both.  If 
also  it  be  remembered  that  this  pressure  was  to  last  five 
years,  at  a  period  when  agriculture  was  less  assisted  by 
science  than  it  is  at  present,  and  when  a  bad  harvest  entailed 
distress  which  no  commerce  could  relieve,  it  will  appear  impos- 
sible to  exaggerate  the  magnitude  of  the  hazard  incurred  by 
Wolsey.  Whatever  might  be  the  hardship  or  the  temporary 
evils  entailed  by  these  measures,  the  whole  weight  of  their 

>  III.  2483.  2  j^jYZ. 


1523.]  OPPRESSIVE   TAXATION.  497 

responsibilitj'- fell  on  his  shoulders.  He  might  urge  in  his  o-o-n 
defence  that  he  was  one  only  of  the  King's  advisers,  that  the 
Council  and  the  Parliament  sanctioned  and  shared  in  those 
proceedings.  Such  a  defence  availed  nothing  ;  it  was  felt  that 
in  reality  his  brain  alone  had  conceived  and  concerted  t]]ese 
measures,  that  to  his  energy  and  to  his  authority  they  owed 
their  existence.  Whilst  the  King,  from  policy  or  dislike  to 
business,  was  scarcely  seen,  often  spent  whole  days  in  tlie 
chase,^  and,  Tudor-like,  incurred  no  responsibility,  he  could, 
like  a  Dcus  ex  machina,  when  the  storm  beat  too  vehemently, 
graciously  interpose,  and  exclaim,  in  language  suited  to  the 
gods  of  Epicurus — 

"  Taxation  ! 
\^nierein  ?     And  what  taxation  ?     My  lord  Cardinal, 
You  that  are  blamed  for  it  alike  with  us, 
Know  you  of  this  taxation  ?  " 

'  See  III.  942,  950,  957,  1558,  2049. 


VOL.   1. 


2  K 


498  THE   KEIGN   OF   HEXRY   VIII.  [A.D. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

INVASION    OF    FRANCE. 

The -war  with  France  was  now  resumed  with  great  animosity 
and  vigonr.     In  August,  Charles  Brandon,  Duke  of  Suffolk, 
was  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  troops  destined  for  the 
invasion.     Cooler  and  less  interested  heads  than  Henry  VIII. 
might  have  reckoned  on  the  fall  of  that  kingdom  as  imminent, 
and  the  coronation  of  an  English  sovereign  at  St.  Denis  as 
more  real  than  a  day-dream.   In  one  of  his  most  characteristic 
letters  to  Wolsey,  More  has  touched  off  this  settled  persuasion 
of  the  King  in  his  graphic  way.     When  More  was  acting  as 
secretary,  and  was  soliciting  the  King  to  sign  certain  papers 
just   received  froni,^ii*Cardinal  which  required  expedition, 
"  his  Grace  laughed,  and  said,  '  Nay,  by  my  soul,  that  will 
not  be,  for  this  is  my  removing  day  soon  at  (to)  Newhall. 
I  will  read  the  remnant  at  night.'  "     At  night,  that  is,  six 
o'clock,  after  the  King  had  dined,  More  again  presented  him- 
self with  his  portfolio.     The  King  signified  his  readiness  to 
sign.    "  Whereupon,"  continues  More,  "  at  my  parting  from  his 
Grace  yesternight,  I  received  from  your  Grace  a  letter,  addressed 
unto  his,  with  which  I  forthwith  returned  unto  his  Grace  in 
the  Queen's  chamber,  where  his  Grace  read  openly  my  lord 
Admiral's^  letter  to  the  Queen's  grace,  which  marvellously 
rejoiced  in  the  good  news,  and  specially  in  that,  that  the 
French  King  should  be  now  toward  a  tutor,  and  his  realm  to 
have  a  governor.   In  the  communication  whereof,  which  lasted 
about  one  hour,  the  King's  grace  said  that  he  trusted  in  God 
to  be  their  governor  himself,  and  that  they  should  by  this 
means  make  a  way  for  him,  as  king  Richard  did  for  his  father.''^ 
By  various  letters  received  from  French  correspondents 

•  Sarrey.  this  realm  tliat  then  it  may  prove  so  ; 

^  State  Pap.  i.  110.    More's  remark  and  else  in  the  stead  thereof  I  pray 

is  honourable  to  his  good  feelings  and  God  send  his  Grace  an  honourable  and 

sagacity  :    "  I    pray    God,"    he    says,  profitable  peace."    And  this  when  the 

"  if  it  be  good  for  his  Grace  and  for  war  had  barely  commenced. 


1523.]  BOURBON'S   AUDACITY.  499 

and  spies,  the  King  had  been  led  to  beheve  that  France  Avas 
greatly  dissatisfied  with  its  monarch  ;  that  the  old  dj'nasty  in 
Normandy  and  Guienne,  as  in  the  days  of  the  Plantagenets, 
would  be  more  palatable  to  the  inhabitants,  worn  down  by 
oppressive  taxation  and  the  violence  of  mercenary  troops, 
than  the  rule  of  their  native  sovereign.  Such  reports  appeared 
to  be  countenanced  by  the  revolt  of  Bourbon  and  other  noble- 
men of  his  party.  Resisting  all  the  offers  of  Francis  for 
accommodation,  Bourbon  had  persisted  in  his  sullen  resolu- 
tion. Trusting  either  to  the  generosity  of  Francis  I.,  or  his 
unwillingness  to  proceed  to  extremities,  Bourbon  had  fluttered 
in  the  rear  of  the  King's  army,  now  far  advanced  on  its  road 
to  Lyons  in  the  direction  of  Italy.  Escape  had  been  easy  at 
anytime,  yet  Bourbon  did  not  attempt  to  escape.  His  capture 
was  no  less  easy,  and  j^et  Francis  made  no  effort  to  detain 
him.  He  was  certainly  aware  of  the  Duke's  treason.  To 
what,  then,  must  we  attribute  such  apparent  irresolution  on 
one  side,  such  audacious  disregard  to  safety  on  the  other  ? 
If  conjecture  may  be  allowed,  Francis  was  reluctant  to  offer 
violence  to  one  so  nobly  allied  and  so  popular  as  Bourbon. 
Perhaps,  also,  he  was  yet  uncertain  of  the  full  extent  of  his 
conspiracy,  and  how  far  other  nobles  were  implicated  in  it. 
There  still  remained  enough  of  the  old  spirit  of  feudalism  in 
France  to  make  it  perilous  to  seize  a  suzerain  of  Bourbon's 
wealth  and  importance  in  the  midst  of  his  estates.  Bourbon 
at  a  distance  from  the  Bourbonnois  could  not  so  easily  elude 
justice.  Lured  into  the  King's  presence  under  the  promise  of 
commanding  the  vanguard  in  Italy,  he  would  be  removed  from 
the  neighbourhood  where  his  strength  was  greatest,  and  might 
then  be  safely  apprehended.  On  the  other  hand,  Bourbon 
himself,  powerful  in  the  midst  of  friends  and  dependants, 
could  only  dictate  terms  to  Charles  V.  and  Henry  VIII.,  marry 
the  sister  of  one,  and  take  the  pay  of  the  other,  if  he  was  able 
to  set  Francis  at  defiance,  and  persuade  others  to  join  in  his 
defection.  In  September  he  threw  off  the  mask.  While 
Francis  was  staying  at  Grenoble,  a  page  betrayed  Bourbon 
and  his  confederates.^  Francis  returned  instantly  to  Lyons, 
apprehended  St.  Vallier  and  others ;  "  and  for  the  time  of 
their  being  in  his  presence  showed  unto  them  good  visage,  as 
though  he  had  nothing  known ;  but  before  they  came  to  their 
lodgings  they  were  attached."  The  head  and  leader  was  still 
at   large.     One   Perrot'''  was   despatched   to   apprehend   the 

>  III.  3392.  ^  TeiTot  do  Waitlij . 


500  THE   REIGN   OP   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

Duke,  and  bring  him  into  the  King's  presence.  The  Duke 
returned  for  answer,  "that  right  shortly  the  King  should  both 
hear  of  him  and  see  him  also."  Within  a  few  hours  after  he 
had  escaped  in  disguise,  and  the  o^Dportunity  which  Francis 
failed  to  take  at  the  flood,  now  ebbed  away,  never  to  return. 

When  the  treason  was  known,  France  was  in  an  uproar. 
It  was  impossible  to  ascertain  at  first  how  far  the  defection 
had  extended.  Uncertain  of  his  movements,  distrustful  of 
his  nobles,  Francis  shut  himself  up  for  a  time  within  the 
gates  of  Lyons. ^  Vendome,  next  in  authority  and  influence  to 
Bourbon,  was  detained  in  a  sort  of  honourable  imprisonment.^ 
Lorraine  was  suspected.  Arrests  were  made  from  day  to  day. 
Not  only  the  expedition  into  Italy,  on  which  Francis  had  set 
his  heart,  was  now  effectually  stopped ;  but  the  Duke,  popular 
wherever  Francis  was  unpopular,  proved  a  formidable  acces- 
sion to  the  hostile  combinations  by  which  France  was  menaced. 
It  was  necessary  to  dissemble.  To  win  the  Duke  back  at  any 
concession,  Francis  offered  Bourbon  the  hand  of  Madame 
Renee.^  He  proposed  to  meet  Bourbon  with  six  gentlemen 
only,  and  settle  the  terms  of  their  agreement.  He  promised 
never  to  trouble  Bourbon  in  any  way,  to  allow  him  undis- 
turbed enjoyment  of  all  his  lands  in  France,  and  even  to  let 
him  serve  the  King  of  England  or  the  Emperor,  provided  it 
was  not  against  himself  or  his  kingdom.  But  Bourbon  re- 
mained inexorable.  The  King,  he  replied,  and  the  Emperor, 
might  do  as  they  pleased ;  but  as  for  himself,  nothing  should 
ever  induce  him  to  trust  Francis  again,  or  make  peace  with 
him  on  any  terms.  To  put  an  effectual  end  to  all  further 
communication,  he  bade  the  envoy  depart  at  once,  with  this 
assurance,  that  if  any  more  such  messengers  were  sent  to  him 
from  the  French  King  he  would  certainly  hang  them.^ 

While  these  difficulties  and  dangers  sj)rung  up  Hydra-like 
in  the  court,  the  camp,  in  Paris,  and  the  provinces,  the  allied 
sovereigns  had  been  actively  and  successfully  emj)loyed  in 
surrounding  the  perplexed  monarch  with  a  network  of 
hostilities.  The  aid  of  the  Swiss  had  been  effectually 
neutralized  ;  Venice,  formerly  the  faithful  ally  and  humble 
dei)endant  of  France,  had  been  induced  by  Pace  to  abandon 
its  former  faith,  and  join  the  league  against  the  Christian 
King. 


•■>=>' 


To  detach  the  Venetians  from  France  was  a  measure  of 

»  III.  3380.  '  III.  3332. 

-  111.  3533.  *   III.  3498. 


1523.]  THE  VENETIANS   ABANDON   FEANOE.  501 

prime  necessity ;  not  so  much  for  their  mercantile  importance 
as  for  the  influence  of  their  example  on  the  rest  of  Italy. 
They  had  always  been  the  warmest  and  most  constant  allies 
of  France.  They  had  frequently  been  solicited  and  threatened 
by  the  late  and  the  present  Emperor,  but  without  eifect.  The 
imperial  ambassadors  at  Venice  had  spent  weeks  in  alternately 
menacing  them  with  the  Emperor's  displeasure,  or  alluring 
them  by  the  promise  of  his  gratitude.  In  vain.  The  Seignory 
remained  unmoved ;  it  despised  the  one,  it  distrusted  the  other. 
As  usual,  the  imperial  envoys  haggled  for  money.  They  desired 
a  loan — "  a  recognition,"  as  Pace  calls  it — "  of  500,000  ducats 
to  be  made  to  the  Emperor."  The  Venetians  offered  200,000 
ducats,  to  be  paid  in  ten  years.  The  smallness  of  the  sum 
was  bad  enough,  the  delay  worse.  At  last  they  consented  to 
abandon  France,  and  join  the  confederacy  against  her ;  but 
not  until  they  had  extorted  a  promise  from  Pace  that  he 
would  obtain  a  commission  from  the  King  of  England  to  act 
as  conservator  of  the  peace  and  mediator  in  any  difficulties 
that  might  happen  to  arise.  They  desired  the  English 
ambassador  to  signify  to  his  master,  that  nothing  had  induced 
them  to  this  agreement  with  the  Emperor  so  much  as  their 
wish  to  j)reserve  the  amity  of  England.  Let  the  compliment 
count  for  what  it  is  worth  ;  it  is  evident  that  Pace  was  the 
main  instrument  of  the  league,  and  without  him  it  would 
never  have  been  concluded.^ 

The  decision  of  the  Seignory  had  been  probably  quickened 
by  a  measure  deemed  justifiable  in  those  days.  By  the  usages 
of  war,  the  limits  of  which  were  not  then  very  strictly  defined, 
an  embargo  was  laid  on  the  Venetian  galleys  trading  to 
England  on  the  security  of  mutual  amity.  They  were  detained 
under  various  pretences  as  if  they  had  belonged  to  a  hostile 
power.  In  vain  Suriano,  the  Venetian  ambassador,  urged 
upon  Wolsey  the  iDropriety  of  releasing  them.  The  Venetian 
galleys,  he  wrote,  detained  day  by  day  at  Southampton  are 
irreparably  injured.  The  crews  have  deserted  the  ships ;  some 
are  perishing  with  hunger,  others  are  compelled  to  beg  their 
bread ;  most  of  the  sailors  are  returning  in  the  ships  of  the 
Genoese  merchants,  and  there  will  not  be  men  enough  to  man 

See    III.    2847.     Even   the   im-  mention  how  much  the  Emperor  was 

j^erial   prothonotary  Caracciolo,  who  indebted  for  success  to  tlie  "  sagacity, 

cannot  always  conceal  his  vexation  at  prudence,   and   dexterity  of   Pace  in 

the  little  e:.timation  had  of  himself  or  ijringing  those  ncgociations  to  a  satis- 

his  master  by  the  Venetians,  admits  factory  conclusion."    Seo  Bergeurolh's 

it  would  be  "  eacrilege  "  if  be  did  not  Calend.  ii.  No,  579  ;  also  5GG. 


502  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

the  galleys.     The  masters,  he  said,  had  spent  all  their  money 
during  their  long  detention,  and  then-  goods  were  spoiled  by 
worms  and  moths. ^     His  remonstrances  were  unavailing.     If 
the  Venetians  were  not  friends  and  allies  with  England,  they 
must  be  considered  and  treated  as  its  enemies.     They  must 
then  make  up  their  minds  to  redeem  their  losses  by  sacrificing 
their  friendship  with  France,  or  redouble  them  if  they  adhered 
to  their  ancient  alliance.     The  Seignory  preferred  the  former 
alternative;  and  its  defection  for  a  time  struck  a  death-blow 
to   French   supremacy  in  Italy.     "  We  shall  soon  leave  the 
French  King  without  a  friend,"  wrote  Pace  to  "VVolsey  in  the 
moment  of  triumph;   "the  Gallic  eagle  before  long  will  not 
have  a  single  feather  to  fly  with."^     The  embargo  was  taken 
ofl^  before  the  treaty  was  concluded,  but  not  before  the  favour- 
able resolution  of  the  Seignory  had  been  known.     The  final 
adjustment   of   the    terms    between    the    Emperor   and  the 
Venetians  was  delayed  by  the  death  of  the  Doge,  and  other 
causes,  until  the  29th  of  July.     But  long  before  that  date 
Francis  saw  his  sun  sinking  rapidly  in  the  peninsula.     In  a 
letter  to  Pace  Wolsey  informs  him  that  the  King  had  dis- 
charged the  Venetian  galleys,  and  allowed  them  to  depart ;  a 
favour,  he  thinks,  which  ought  to  be  "  thankfully  accepted 
and  substantial!}^  regarded "  !     But  with  this  agreeable  in- 
telligence he  coupled  the  announcement,  that  after  the  en- 
larging of  the  said  galleys,  as  the  King  was  fitting  out  a  fleet 
at  Portsmouth,  which  lacked  certain  pieces  of  artillery,  "  I  of 
myself,  without  any  consent  of  their  ambassadors  here  resident, 
or  [of]  the  patrons  of  the  galleys,  willing  for  the  love  that  I 
bore  them  to  show  a  confirmation  of  their  good  minds  towards 
the  King's  grace,  took  upon  me  to  borrow  out  of  the 'said 
galleys  six  great  pieces  of  artillery ;  that  is  to  say,  of  every 
galley  two  pieces,  trusting  that  the  said  Duke  and  Senate  will 
be  contented"!^     Such  are  the  liberties  and  the  duties  of 
friendship. 

In  the  face  of  so  formidable  a  combination,  a  king  of  less 
spirit  or  more  prudence  than  Francis  would  have  succumbed, 
and  made  terms  with  his  enemies.  And  to  terms  of  accom- 
modation Charles  was  at  all  events  ready  to  listen.  He  had 
no  desire  for  the  conquest  of  France,  least  of  all  to  share  it 
with  his  powerful  ally,  and  his  more  powerful  minister,  who 

*  Nov.   23,    1522.      Compare   also       relinquetur." — No.  2817. 
No.  2555.  ^  III.  2863. 

"   "Nulla   peuna   qua  volet    Gallo 


1523.]  THE   SPIRIT   OF   FEANCIS,  503 

was  too  cautious  to  be  deceived,  too  cold  to  be  blinded,  by  the 
Emperor's  protestations.^  In  the  hours  of  their  most  intimate 
alliance  the  Cardinal  never  scrupled  to  treat  as  chimerical  the 
amjjle  professions  of  the  Emperor,  the  prodigious  armies  he 
was  raising,  the  sums  he  engaged  himself  to  pay.  His  ambas- 
sadors fretted,  bristled  up,  and  chafed  at  these  repeated 
indignities,  and  never  scrupled  to  repeat  them  with  interest  to 
the  Emperor.^  But  their  anger  and  their  explanations  were 
alike  unheeded.  Wolsey  w^as  convinced  that  the  Emperor 
either  would  not,  or  more  probably  could  not,  help  either 
himself  or  his  friends.  The  despatches  of  Sampson  and 
Jerningham  from  the  Emperor's  court  left  no  room  for  doubt 
on  that  subject.^ 

But  Francis  would  neither  abandon  his  enterprise,  nor 
bate  an  inch  of  his  pretensions.  Though  he  must  have  known 
that  he  was  not  popular,  and  had  not  deserved  popularity ; 
though  his  extravagance,  his  reckless  ambition,  his  disastrous 
government,  joined  to  the  avarice  of  Louise  of  Savoy,  had 
alienated  from  him  the  affection  of  his  kingdom ; — he  deter- 
mined, in  this  most  trjdng  moment  of  his  fortunes,  to  throw 
himself  on  the  patriotism  of  his  subjects.  The  magnitude  of 
the  danger  was,  in  fact,  his  best  security.  The  time  was  not 
so  distant  but  that  the  memory  of  what  France  had  suffered 
through  the  disaffection  of  its  great  feudal  nobles,  and  their 
alliance  with  England,  was  comparatively  recent — recent,  and 
still  bitter.  Communal  France  and  feudal  France  still  flowed 
on  like  two  parallel  streams,  side  by  side,  but  their  waters 
scarcely  intermingled.  A  war  with  England,  a  dread  of  dis- 
memberment, the  imperilment  of  their  own  independence  in 
the  captivity  of  their  King;  these  were  powerful  incentives 
to  union,  irresistible  arguments  for  consolidation,  a  genesis  of 
internal  strength  and  vigour.  They  carried  France  in  com- 
parative safety,  not  only  through  all  the  imprudence  and 
excesses  of  such  a  reign  as  that  of  Francis  I.,  but  through  the 
mad  follies  of  Charles  IX.  and  the  devastating  wars  of  the 
Huguenots.  Out  of  the  winepress  of  the  17th  century  Germany 
emerged  weak,  trembling,  and  disorganized ;  England,  dis- 
membered of  its  national  head  and  national  church  ;  France, 
as  the  dictator  of  the  Old  World,  and,  but  for  the  senseless 
ambition  of  its  rulers,  little  less  than  absolute  monarch  of  the 
New. 

'III.  2881.  -  III.  30G1. 

«  See  Spinelly,  No.  3532. 


504  THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

On  the  24th  of  August  ^  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  crossed  over  to 
Calais  at  the  head  of  the  largest  army  which,  as  Wolsey  in- 
formed Sampson  and  Jerningham,  had  been  despatched  fi'om 
these  shores  for  a  hundred  years.^  He  was  joined  in  the  first 
week  of  September^  by  3,000  horse  of  the  Low  Countries, 
4,000  lanceknights,  waggons  and  "  limoners  "  for  transporting 
the  troops,  commanded  by  Count  de  Buren.  To  assist  in  the 
invasion,  10,000  Almains,  under  Felix  Count  Furstemberg, 
marched  in  the  direction  of  Bresse,  on  the  eastern  frontier ; 
whilst  the  Emperor,  as  usual  behindhand,  had  arranged  to 
occupy  Guienne.*  As  usual  also,  the  requisite  number  of 
horses  and  "limoners  "  to  be  provided  by  Margaret  of  Savoy 
were  not  forthcoming  at  the  critical  moment,^  Indifferent  to 
the  war,  or  more  probably  unwilling  to  bear  any  part  in  the 
burthens  of  it,  the  Flemish  subjects  of  Charles  excused  them- 
selves from  furnishing  the  necessary  contingents.  Disaffected 
and  ill  paid,  the  Germans  under  Count  Furstemberg  clamoured 
for  wages ;  were  ready  to  leave  their  ranks  and  return.  It  had 
been  stipulated  at  the  outset  that  the  Emperor  should  advance 
them  their  first  month's  pay  ;  but  it  was  evident  that  he  was 
in  no  condition  to  fulfil  his  engagement.  Kemonstrances  were 
useless  ;  it  was  incumbent  on  Henry  to  find  the  money  or 
abandon  the  enterprise,  after  he  had  proceeded  so  far  and 
incurred  so  much  trouble  and  expense.  He  preferred  the 
former,  and  transmitted  the  pay  for  10,000  lanceknights. 
Again  he  experienced  the  bad  faith  of  his  confederate.  After 
the  money  had  been  advanced,  it  was  found  that  the  whole 
available  force  under  Count  Felix,  instead  of  numbering  10,000 
did  not  exceed  6,000.  Many  had  deserted  already,  others  were 
preparing  to  follow  their  example.^  The  delay,  the  subter- 
fuges, the  transparent  apologies  of  Lady  Margaret  and  the 
Emperor's  ambassadors^  proved  a  sore  trial  to  Wolsey's 
temper. 

"  His  Grace,"  writes  More  to  Wolsey,  ''commanded  me  to 
write  unto  your  Grace,  on  his  behalf,  that  it  might  like  you  to 

'  III.  3281.  An  account  of  the  it  at  13,100.  (Chron.,  p.  662.)  To 
captains  and  their  retinues  will  be  these  we  must  add  De  Buren's  con- 
found at  No.  3288.  tingent    of    3,000    horse    and    4,000 

*   According  to  No.  3288,  the  army  lanceknights. 
which  crossed  under  Suffolk  consisted  ^  III.  3294. 

of  10,688  foot,  and  of  ordnance  1,648  ;  *  III.  3326. 

in  all,  12,336.     These  numbers  were  »  III.   3371;    compare   also   Nos. 

to  be  augmented  by  1,700  men  from  3347,  3324,  and  3378. 
Guisnes  and  Calais,  bringing  up  the  "  III.    3490 ;    compare   also  3308, 

total  to  14,036  men.      Hall  estimates  3314,  3318,  3440, 


1523.]  FKAXCE   OPEN   TO   THE   INVADERS.  505 

take  the  pain  to  devise  a  good  round  letter  unto  my  lady- 
Margaret,  in  your  own  name,  to  stir  them  forward  in  the 
provision  of  such  things ;  as  their  slackness  hitherto  much 
hath  hindered  the  common  affairs.  His  Highness  saith  that 
such  dealing  so  often  used,  and  never  otherwise,  may  well 
give  him  cause  hereafter  better  to  be  advised  ere  he  enter  into 
a  charge  again  for  their  defence,  if  this  be  not  amended ;  and 
so  he  required  your  Grace  to  write  unto  her."  ^ 

All  this  time  Francis  was  shut  up  in  Lyons,  with  about 
25,000  foot  and  2,000  men-at-arms.^  The  rest  of  his  available 
forces  had  been  despatched  either  into  Scotland  to  the  aid  of 
the  Duke  of  Albany,  or  into  Italy  to  recover  the  Milanese. 
With  the  exception  of  Boulogne,  Therouenne,  Dourlens,  and 
other  places  on  the  frontiers,  which  were  strongly  fortified,  the 
towns  in  the  interior  were  wholly  unprepared  for  a  siege.  They 
had  neither  ramparts  nor  garrisons.  An  open  road  to  Paris 
offered  no  obstacle  to  the  enemy's  progress.  To  amuse  his 
foes — to  delaj^  if  possible,  the  time  (for  the  season  was  ad- 
vancing), and  retard  their  march — Francis  sent  La  Tremouille 
into  Picardy.  But  this  able  and  active  general  found  the 
whole  country  utterly  defenceless.  To  the  well  appointed  and 
disciplined  troops  of  Suffolk  and  De  Buren  he  had  nothing  to 
oppose  except  raw  and  hasty  levies  raised  from  the  untrained 
peasantry  in  the  pressure  of  the  hour.^ 

The  English  and  imperial  commanders  differed  as  to  the 
plan  of  operations.  Jealous  of  the  designs  of  Charles,  con- 
vinced that  he  would  employ  the  confederate  troops  for  his 
own  purposes,  without  regarding  the  general  interests  of  the 
allies,  Henry  had  resoived  on  besieging  Boulogne.  "  As 
touching  the  consultation  of  the  siege  to  be  laid  to  Boulogne 
or  abandoned,"  writes  More  to  Wolsey,  "  his  Highness  hath 
commanded  me  to  write  unto  your  Grace,  that,  notwithstand- 
ing the  reasons  of  the  lord  Isilstein  (Buren)  with  the  mind  of 
my  lady  Margaret  and  the  Emperor  too,  his  Grace  is,  for  the 
prudent  reasons  mentioned  in  your  Grace's  letter,  detcr- 
minately  resolved  to  have  the  said  siege  experimented ; 
whereof,  as  your  Grace  writeth,  what  may  hap  to  fall,  who  but 
God  can  tell  ?  And  all  the  preparations  purveyed  for  that 
way,  to  be  now  suddenly  set  aside,  or  converted  where  they 
cannot  serve,  sending  his  army  far  off  into  the  enemy's  land, 

'   III.  3346.  Mondes,    torn.    xxv.    p.    907),    from 

HI.  3297.  manuscript  authorities. 

'  Seo  M.  Miguct  (Revue  dcs  Deux 


506  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY    VIII.  [A.D. 

where  we  should  trust  to  their  provision,  of  whose  slackness 
and  hard  handling  proof  hath  been  had  ere  this,  and  yet  no 
proof  had  of  the  Duke's  (Bourbon's)  fastness,  his  Highness 
verily  thinketh,  as  your  Grace  hath  most  prudently  written, 
that  there  were  no  wisdom  therein.  And  his  Grace  saith, 
that  your  Grace  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,  where  ye  write  that 
the  Burgundians  would  be  upon  their  own  frontiers,  to  the  end 
our  money  should  be  spent  among  them,  and  their  frontiers 
defended,  and  themselves  resort  to  their  own  houses."  ^ 

The  Imperialists  objected  that  Boulogne  was  impregnable.^ 
If  their  opinion  were  well  founded,  the  truth  coincided  with 
their  interests.  It  was  the  policy  of  Charles  to  conduct  the 
war  at  the  expense  of  his  ally.  If  his  troops  were  employed 
in  besieging  Boulogne,  he  must  keep  other  garrisons  in  pay  to 
protect  his  Flemish  subjects  on  the  French  frontier.  Second- 
ing ostensibly  the  designs  of  England  upon  France,  he  was 
contriving  to  throw  upon  the  English  king  the  protection  of 
his  Flemish  dominions.  Disengaged  from  the  necessity  of 
their  defence,  he  could  concentrate  all  his  strength  on  the 
South,  secure  Navarre,  retake  Pampeluna,  and  extend  his 
dominions  beyond  the  Pyrenees.  So,  careful  of  his  own 
interests,  he  fluttered  between  Burgos  and  Corunna,  perplex- 
ing his  English  allies  by  his  apparent  irresolution,  and  callous 
to  their  reproaches. 

For  reasons  not  clearly  ascertained — probably  at  the 
suggestion  of  Bourbon,  from  whom  Sir  John  Piussell  had  now 
returned — certainly  from  no  undue  partiality  to  the  Emperor's 
interests,  as  M.  Michelet  erroneously  surmises — Wolsey  was 
induced  to  abandon  the  idea  of  laying  siege  to  Boulogne.  His 
letter  to  the  King  announcing  and  apologizing  for  that  change 
has  not  been  preserved  ;  ^  but  the  tenor  of  it  may  be  gathered 
from  a  letter  written  by  More  to  Wolsey  at  the  King's  com- 
mand. It  is  equally  honourable  to  the  great  minister  and  his 
royal  master,  and  will  help  to  dissipate  the  misconceptions 
industriously  circulated  and  lately  revived  to  the  prejudice  of 
both.  For  that  reason  I  give  the  more  important  portions  of 
it  at  length  : — * 

"  It  may  Hke  your  good  Grace  to  be  advertised  that  the 

'  Sept.  12.  the  monarcli  happened  to  be  at  the 

2  III.  3315-3320.  time.     When   these    residences    were 

^  Mnch  of  the  royal  correspondence,  pulled    down,   what    became    of    the 

I  i^resume,  never  made  its  way  into  pajjers  ? 

the   State  Paper  Office,  but  was  kept  *  III.  3346, 

at  the  different  royal  residences  where 


1523.]  PROPOSAL   TO   BESIEGE   BOULOGNE,  507 

King's  highness,  bj^the  hands  of  his  servant,  Sir  John  Eussell, 
of  whose  well-achieved  errand  [to  Bourbon]  his  Grace  taketh 
great  pleasure,  hath  received  your  most  prudent  letter,  con- 
taining 3^our  wise  and  substantial  counsel  and  advice  concern- 
ing the  siege  of  Boulogne  to  be  left  off  at  the  present  time,  and 
his  army  with  proclamations  of  liberty  and  forbearing  to  burn, 
to  proceed  and  march  forward  unto  the  places  devised  by  the 
duke  of  Bourbon ;  which  places,  as  your  Grace  upon  credible 
report  from  all  parties  is  informed,  shall  easily  be  taken  with- 
out any  resistance ;  wherein  j'our  Grace  perceiveth  great 
appearance  of  winning  some  great  part  of  France  or  at  least- 
wise, all  that  is  on  this  side  the  water  of  Somme,  which  should 
be  as  honorable  and  beneficial  unto  his  Grace  and  also  more 
tenable  than  all  Normandy,  Gascoigne,  and  Guienne  ;  requir- 
ing his  Highness,  therefore,  that  your  Grace  might  with  all 
possible  diligence  be  advertised  of  his  mind  and  pleasure  in 
the  premises,  to  the  end  that  ye  might  advertise  my  lord  of 
Suffolk  of  the  same  ;  and  that  it  w^ould  like  his  Grace  to  take 
in  good  part  your  foresaid  advice  and  opinion,  without  arrect- 
ing  (attributing)  any  lightness  to  your  Grace,  though  the 
same  were  of  another  sort  now  than  was  contained  in  your 
late  letters  addressed  unto  me  ;  forasmuch  as  this  declaration 
of  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  and  his  counsel  thereupon  given,  with 
the  good  semblance,  and  grounds  and  considerations  thereof, 
causeth  your  Grace  to  change  your  opinion. 

"  The  King  has  commanded  me  to  write  unto  jour  Grace 
first  concerning  this  j)oint,  that  his  Highness  not  only  doth 
not  arrect  the  change  of  your  Grace's  opinion  to  any  lightness, 
but  also  right  well  considereth  that  it  proceedeth  of  a  very 
constant  and  unchangeable  purpose,  to  the  furtherance  and 
advancement  of  his  affairs.  And  as  Ids  Highness  esteemeth 
nothing  in  counsel  more  perilous  thaft  \_for~\  one  to  persever  in  the 
maintenance  of  his  advice  because  lie  Jiath  once  given  it,  so 
thinketh  he  that  councillor  very  commendable  ivhich,  though  there 
ivere  no  change  in  the  matter,  yet  forbeareth  not  to  declare  the 
change  of  his  own  opinion,  if  he  either  perceive,  or  think  that  he 
perceiveth,  the  contrary  of  his  former  counsel  more  2^>'ofltable. 
Wherefore,  in  the  change  of  your  Grace's  opinion  in  this 
matter,  his  Highness  not  only  seeth  no  manner  likelihood  of 
liglitness,  but  also  perceiveth,  commendeth,  and  most  afi'ectu- 
ously  thanketh  your  faithful  diligence  and  high  wisdom,  so 
deeply  pondering  and  so  substantially  advertising  his  High- 
ness of  such  considerations  as  (the  matter  so  greatly  changed) 


508  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII.  [AD. 

move  your  Grace  to  change  your  opinion,  and  to  give  your 
prudent  advice  to  the  changing  of  the  manner  and  fashion  of 
his  affairs." 

For  sentiments  so  noble  and  so  generous,  the  ministers  and 
subjects  of  Henry  VIII.  might  readily  forgive  the  occasional 
outbursts  of  a  capricious  and  imperious  temper.  In  the 
exhibition  of  these  better  qualities,  though  afterwards  blunted 
by  age  and  indulgence,  yet  never  wholly  extinguished,  we 
divine  the  true  secret  of  that  fascination  which,  in  spite  of 
all  his  faults — and  they  were  neither  few  nor  trivial — Henry 
VIII.  exercised  over  those  who  surrounded  him.  To  no 
sovereign  did  ministers  ever  dedicate  themselves,  head  •  and 
heart,  body  and  soul,  with  more  intense  devotion.  It  mattered 
not  whether  they  were  reformers  or  anti -reformers.  Catholics 
or  Protestants ;  attached,  like  More,  to  ancient  traditions,  or, 
like  Cromwell,  identifying  the  prosperity  of  the  nation  and 
the  cause  of  religion  with  the  unlimited  prerogatives  of  the 
Crown.  No  fatigue,  no  pains,  no  sacrifices,  were  too  great. 
There  was  a  heroism  in  serving  a  King  who,  though  no  hero 
himself,  understood — none  better — ^the  true  temper  of  man- 
hood. If  he  was  an  exacting,  he  was  also  an  intelligent, 
master ;  if  he  expected  much,  he  had  discernment  enough  to 
appreciate  services.  In  his  general  impartiality,  in  the  cool- 
ness and  strength  of  his  judgment,  except  where  his  passions 
were  concerned,  whenever  his  ministers  tendered  advice,  they 
were  sure  of  receiving  that  most  grateful  of  all  recognitions  to 
those  who  volunteer  advice — a  full,  patient,  and  unbiassed 
attention.  Consequently  his  praise  was  coveted  as  famishing 
men  crave  for  bread,  or  drowning  men  for  deliverance,  and  his 
censure  was  dreaded  as  no  King's  censure  ever  was.  Men 
may  dislike  the  reproofs,  but  no  man  values  the  praise,  of  a 
weak  or  a  dissolute  monarch.  No  man  sacrifices  his  energies, 
his  brains,  and  his  purposes  to  a  blind  and  undiscriminating 
idol.  Had  Henry  been  the  wilful,  capricious,  and  self-indul- 
gent monarch  he  is  sometimes  represented,  the  intense 
personal  devotion  of  such  men  as  Wolsey,  Cromwell,  More, 
Gardiner,  Fitzwilliam,  so  unlike  each  other  in  all  respects, 
this  one  excepted,  would  have  been  the  most  unintelligible 
paradox  in  history.  Weakness  is  incapable  of  devotion ;  folly 
does  not  understand  the  meaning  of  sacrifice. 

Fully  acquitting  the  Cardinal  of  inconsistency,  in  the 
letter  already  referred  to,  the  King  examines  the  grounds  on 
which  Wolsey  had  changed  his  opinions  in  a  minute   and 


1523.]  ALARM   AT  PARIS.  509 


masterly  way.  He  states  in  clear  and  forcible  language  liis 
reasons  for  adhering  to  his  former  convictions.  I  have  not 
room  to  insert  them  here.  This  difference,  however,  may  be 
observed  in  the  King's  judgment  and  Wolsey's,  Bourbon's,  and 
De  Buren's.  They  trusted  for  the  success  of  their  plan  on 
that  most  uncertain  and  fallacious  of  all  calculations  to  which 
military  men  can  sm-render  their  judgment — the  blunders  and 
inefficiency  of  their  enemy.  The  King  proceeded  on  the 
sounder  hj^pothesis  that  the  French  King  would  not  unlikely 
do  "as  his  Highness  would  himself,  if  he  were  in  (as  our 
Lord  keep  him  out  of)  the  like  case;  "  that  is, he  would  attack 
and  defeat  his  enemies  in  detail  before  they  could  consolidate 
then-  powers.  The  one  Horatius,  fresh  and  on  his  own  field, 
is  more  than  a  match  for  the  three  isolated  Curiatii.  Strange 
is  it  that  this  indisputable  military  axiom,  the  sum  and 
generalization  of  military  experience,  should  have  sprung  up 
as  it  were,  and  stood  palpably  bodied  forth  to  the  mind  of  the 
Eoman  even  before  his  experience  began.  The  result,  at 
which  others  arrive  by  a  long  and  costly  process,  flashed  as 
an  intuition  on  the  clear  mirror  of  his  practical  mind.  And 
now,  after  three  thousand  years,  true  and  fresh  as  ever,  it  is 
never  to  be  transgressed  without  its  Nemesis  ! 

But  the  King's  judgment,  justified  by  the  taking  of  Boulogne 
at  a  later  period  of  his  reign,  was  not  allowed  on  this  occasion 
to  have  its  way.  The  combined  forces  of  the  English  and 
Imperialists,  numbering  rather  more  than  20,000,  advanced 
from  Calais,  and,  without  experiencing  any  opposition,  de- 
vastated the  country  as  far  as  Montdidier.  Montdidier  was 
surrendered  on  the  27th  of  October.  After  occupying  Eoye 
and  Nesle,  the  troops  returned  once  more  to  the  sea-coast  in 
the  beginning  of  November,  having  accomplished  nothing  of 
substantial  importance  commensurate  with  the  labour  and 
expense  of  the  campaign.  From  accident  or  design  neither 
Bourbon  nor  the  Emperor  co-operated  with  the  Duke,  who 
returned  to  Calais,  much  to  the  disgust  of  his  royal  master ; 
justifying  the  conviction  that,  whatever  might  be  Suffolk's 
personal  bravery,  he  possessed  none  of  the  qualities  required 
in  a  great  general.^ 

Paris,  meantime,  was  in  the  greatest  alarm,  expecting 
daily  the  approach  of  the  enemy.   A  post  had  been  despatched 

'  If  any  reader  wishes  to  trace  from  the  time  of  their  starting,  Sept. 
the  niovetnents  of  the  army,  he  will  19,  to  tluiir  return,  Nov.  7,  in  III. 
find  a  journal  of   their   proceedings,       351G.     Compare  also  Noa.  3402,  3485. 


510  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D.  1523. 

to  Francis,  still  at  Lyons,  to  advertise  him  of  the  clanger  of 
his  capital.  On  the  31st  of  October  Chabot  de  Brion  entered 
the  city,  followed  the  next  day  by  the  Duke  of  Vendome. 
They  had  been  sent  by  Francis  to  concert  measures  with  its 
inhabitants  for  its  safety.  The  speech  delivered  by  Brion  to 
the  parliament  assembled  on  this  occasion  was  exactly 
calculated  to  inspire  them  with  the  resolution  of  defending 
themselves  to  the  last  extremity.  In  vehement  and  vivid 
language  he  denounced  the  treason  of  Bourbon.  The  Constable, 
he  said,  was  a  traitor  not  less  to  his  country  than  his  King. 
He  had  combined  with  their  national  enemies  to  bring  France 
into  subjection,  and  only  waited  for  the  time  when  the  King 
had  crossed*the  mountains,  to  divide  its  native  land  among 
strangers.  It  had  already  been  arranged,  he  told  them,  that 
England  should  have  I'lle  de  France,  Picardy,  Normandy,  and 
Guienne  ;  and  the  King  of  England  be  crowned  at  St.  Denis ; 
Burgundy,  Champagne,  Dauj)hine,  Languedoc,  and  Provence 
were  to  be  allotted  to  the  Emperor  ;  whilst  the  Duke  of 
Bourbon,  with  a  pension  of  50,000  crowns,  and  the  addition 
to  his  patrimonial  estates  of  Poitou,  Anjou,  Maine,  Touraine, 
and  the  neighbouring  counties,  should  be  recognized  as  regent 
by  Charles  and  Henry,  and  hold  his  office  at  their  discretion. 
Then,  turning  his  hearers'  thoughts  in  another  direction,  he 
insisted  on  the  deep  and  undying  affection  which  their  King 
had  always  entertained  for  his  capital.  "  Sooner  than  lose 
Paris,"  he  exclaimed,  "  our  liege  lord  would  sacrifice  his  life, 
and  all  that  is  dear  to  him.  He  is  ready  to  defend  you.  He 
is  determined  to  live  and  die  with  you.  As  he  cannot  be 
amongst  you  himself,  he  has  resolved  to  send  his  wife,  his 
children,  his  mother,  all  that  he  has,  as  pledges  of  his 
presence ;  for  he  is  convinced  that  if  he  should  lose  all,  and 
save  Paris — Paris  safe — all  will  be  saved."  ^ 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  this  speech  was  received  with 
acclamation.  The  citizens  exerted  themselves  to  the  utmost ; 
they  imposed  a  tax  ujoon  themselves  to  provide  soldiers  for 
defence  ;  repaired  the  ramparts ;  cleared  the  ditches.  But 
Suffolk  in  the  mean  time  had  returned  to  Calais. 

'  See  M.  Mignefc,  Rev.,  etc.,  90S,  and  the  authorities  there  quoted  by  him. 


(     511     ) 


CHAPTEE   XYIII. 

SCOTLAND. 

Whilst  the  tlioiiglits  of  Henry  and  bis  minister  were  thus 
engrossed  by  tbe  war,  an  event  of  tbe  utmost  importance  bad 
occurred  nearer  home ;  this  was  tbe  invasion  of  England  by 
tbe  Scots,  under  tbe  Duke  of  Albany.  The  treaty  of  marriage 
concluded  between  France  and  England  in  tbe  latter  end  of 
1518  had  left  Scotland  at  tbe  mercy  of  its  ancient  and  more 
powerful  rival.  No  alternative  remained  except  to  comply 
with  the  comprehension  provided  for  it  by  France  in  tbe 
negociations  with  England.^  But  so  long  as  Dacre  remained 
warden  of  the  Marches,  such  comprehension  was  little  more 
than  nominal.  It  did  not  prevent  him  from  intriguing  with 
tbe  Scottish  lords ;  it  did  not  diminish  those  incursions  on 
the  borders,  for  which  bis  own  tenantry  and  bis  neighbours 
needed  no  additional  incitement  beyond  tbe  spur  of  traditional 
feuds  and  tbe  inextinguishable  desire  of  plunder.  No  man 
knew  better  than  Dacre  bow  to  avail  himself  of  the  hot  blood 
and  evil  passions  fostered  by  these  aggressions ;  none  was 
more  skilful  than  be  in  fomenting  quarrels  among  the  evil 
disposed  or  discontented  of  the  Scottish  nobility — "  tbe  fiddling 
stick,"  in  his  own  expressive  language,  "  to  bold  Scotland  in 
cumber  and  business."  ^ 

Into  the  treaty  between  Henry  VIII.  and  Francis  I.  a 
secret  clause  had  been  introduced,  unknown  to  all  parties 
except  tbe  principal  contrahents,  stipulating  that  Albany 
should  not  be  permitted  to  return  to  Scotland  during  the 
minority  of  James  V.^  He  was  at  that  time  residing  at  Paris ; 
and  although  Francis  could  have  as  little  right  to  detain  him 
as  Henry  to  demand  his  detention,  it  was  thought,  as  tbe 
Duke  bad  married  a  French  lady,  and  his  property  was  in 
France,  still  more  as  his  influence  in  Scotland  depended  on 
the  support  and  countenance  be  received  from  the  French 

'  II.  4564.  '  II.  4217.  '  H-  4471. 


512  THE  KEIGN   OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

King,  that  it  would  be  comparatively  an  easy  task  to  hinder 
his  return,  or  at  least  to  render  it  ineffectual.  Whether  the 
engagement  would  he  strictly  observed,  depended  entirely  on 
the  good  faith  of  Francis  himself — a  slender  tie  at  best ;  and 
Wolsey,  in  a  letter  to  Dacre,  commanded  him  to  keep  a  sharp 
look-out,  without  relying  too  much  on  the  promise  made  by 
their  new  confederate.^  But  though  Scotland  was  the  ancient 
ally  of  France — was  not  to  be  sacrificed  at  any  cost,  still  less 
for  want  of  a  little  duplicity — it  did  not  serve  the  interests  of 
Francis  at  present  to  violate  his  promise.  Nor,  in  the  face  of 
so  much  danger  and  uncertainty,  was  Albany  inclined  to  cross 
the  sea,  at  the  hazard  of  being  taken  prisoner  by  the  English 
fleet,  and  of  expiating  his  offences  in  the  Tower.  Yet  every 
day  he  remained  away  his  influence  in  Scotland  declined. 
Every  year  brought  James  V.  nearer  his  majority ;  and  the 
natural  authority  of  his  mother,  supported  by  EngHsh  money 
and  English  interest,  bade  fair  to  eclipse  the  little  power  he 
still  retained  in  Scotland,  and  reduce  him  to  the  condition  of 
a  subject. 

The  annals  of  Scotland  are,  unfortunately,  involved  in  so 
much  obscurity  that  it  is  not  easy  to  find  a  firm  footing,  or 
follow  any  clear  or  steady  light,  in  tracing  the  period  of  its 
history.  What  intrigues  were  set  on  foot  by  Albany  (if  any) 
to  procure  or  haste  a  his  return,  is  unknown ;  but  it  is  not 
probable  that  he  would  tamely  permit  himself  to  be  treated 
as  an  exile,  and  make  no  effort  to  regain  his  liberty  and  his 
influence.  From  a  letter  of  the  Estates  of  Scotland  dated  the 
4th  of  January,  1518  (1519  by  the  modern  computation),^  it 
appears  that  Albany,  in  conjunction  with  Paniter,  the  Scotch 
Secretary  of  State,  was  already  employing  his  influence  with 
Leo  X.  to  induce  his  Holiness  to  interfere  and  urge  upon  the 
French  King  the  importance  of  restoring  him  to  Scotland. 
The  result  of  this  application  is  uncertain.  But  whilst  they 
w^ere  thus  attempting  to  gain  their  object  by  an  indirect  course 
that  promised  little  success,  an  accident  threw  into  their  paths 
unsoHcited  advantages  which  their  most  dexterous  policy  could 
never  have  secured. 

In  no  one  respect  had  Margaret's  expectations  been  realized 
at  her  return  to  Scotland  in  1517.  She  was  mortified  at  dis- 
covering that  her  political  influence  was  now  more  feeble  than 
ever.     Disgusted  at  the  neglect  of  Angus,  her  husband,  who 

1  II.  4547.    Tliis  letter,  as  noted  at       its  true  date  is  June  29.     See  III.  396. 
III.  p.  140,  belongs  to  the  year  1519  j  "  UL  4. 


1519.]        MAEGAEET   SEEKS   A   DIVOECE   FEOM   ANGUS.  51 


o 


had  attempted  to  grasp  the  reins  during  her  absence,  and 
was  indifferent  to  her  person  as  well  as  her  pretensions — 
exasperated,  if  popular  tradition  may  be  trusted,  at  the 
transfer  of  his  attentions  to  another  lady — Margaret  had 
resolved  on  a  divorce.  In  a  letter  written  to  her  brother 
Henry  in  the  spring  of  1519  she  expatiated  on  her  various 
grievances.  She  had  been  badly  treated,  she  said,  by  the 
Scotch  lords ;  her  income  ought  to  have  been  9,000/.  a  year, 
and  she  could  never  obtain  more  than  2,000L ;  instead  of 
being  supported  by  Angus,  she  had  been  much  molested  by 
him  ever  since  her  return,  and  her  troubles  were  increasing 
daily.  She  complained  that  the  Bishop  of  Dunkeld  (Gawin 
Douglas,  the  celebrated  translator  of  Virgil),  his  father's 
brother,  and  others  of  his  kinsmen,  had  caused  Angus  to  deal 
sharply  with  her ;  that  he  would  have  compelled  her  to  sur- 
render her  marriage  settlement,  and  on  her  refusal  had  seized 
her  estates  at  Newark,  and  detained  her  revenues.  She  pro- 
posed to  send  a  servant  to  inform  her  brother  of  his  misdeeds, 
which  were  too  long  to  describe ;  adding  that  she  'and  her 
husband  had  not  met  these  six  months,  and  she  was  resolved 
to  part  with  him  "if  she  might  by  God's  law,  and  with  honor 
to  herself ;  for  he  loved  her  not."  ^ 

The  letter  is  curious,  as  showing  the  lax  notions  which 
prevailed  among  the  Tudors  on  the  subject  of  divorce,  and 
still  more  for  the  naive  ignorance  it  displays  of  her  brother's 
character.  For  Margaret  expressed  a  hope  that  he  would  aid 
her  in  this  resolution,  and  "  be  kind  to  her  when  it  came  to 
this  point,"  avowing  that  she  would  never  marry  but  where 
he  wished,  and  would  never  part  with  him,  whatever  she 
might  do  with  her  husband.  The  answer  she  received  was 
such  as  all  but  herself  would  have  anticipated.  Henry  sent 
her  a  stern  message  and  stinging  rebuke  by  Henry  Chadworth, 
an  Observant  Friar,  remonstrating  with  her  on  her  intended 
separation  from  her  husband,  and  "  her  reported  suspicious 
living."  Nor  did  Dacre  or  Wolsey  fail  to  second  the  King's 
reproaches  in  terms  more  bitter  than  decorous.     Ostensibty 

'  ITT.  16G.     This  letter  has  been  100),     mentions     this     disagreement 

referred  by  some  writers  to  an  earlier  between   Mai'garet  and   Angus    as   of 

period,  but  I  think  erroneously.     For  recent     date.       lioleyn     might     have 

the    settlement    to    which   Margai-et  heard  of   it  from   Albany,   who   was 

refersinitC'hor  conjunct  feoffment")  then   in    the    French    court,    familiar 

was  arranged  l)y  Dacro,  Dec.  2;J,  1518  with  the  King,  and  frequently  attended 

(800  11.4077)  ;  and  lioleyn,  in  a  letter  him  in  his  masquerades  in  the  streets 

to  Wolsey,  dated  Feb.  28,  1519   (HI.  of  Paris  and  el.-^ewlieie. 

vni,.  I.  '2  \j 


514  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

the  friar  succeeded  so  well  in  his  mission  that,  notwithstand- 
ing the  opposition  of  Arran  and  the  Chancellor,  to  whom  the 
Queen  showed  the  letter,  Margaret  consented  to  be  reconciled 
to  her  husband,  and  Angus  expressed  his  gratitude  to  Henry 
at  the  result.^ 

But  the  reconciliation  was  neither  sincere  nor  lasting; 
and  as  the  quarrel  grew  wider  between  them,  Margaret  threw 
herself  into  the  arms  of  Arran  and  the  opposite  party — that  is 
into  the  arms  of  those  who  were  opposed  to  England,  and 
whose  supremacy  was  bound  up  with  the  aggrandizement  of 
Albany.  Contrary,  therefore,  to  her  former  policy,  she  was 
now  no  less  anxious  for  Albany's  return  than  she  had  formerly 
been  anxious  for  his  banishment.  Nor  was  Albany  backward 
in  meeting  her  advances.  He  sent  her  a  letter,  stating  that, 
as  he  was  prevented  from  visiting  Scotland,  he  wished  that, 
with  the  consent  of  the  Lords,  she  should  take  the  reins.^ 
Nothing  could  be  better  calculated  to  secure  her  favour  and 
gain  her  confidence  than  such  a  proposal ;  nothing  was  better 
contrived  to  render  Angus  more  unpalatable  to  the  Queen,  or 
her  reconciliation  with  him  more  desperate.  In  acknowledg- 
ment of  her  gratitude  Margaret  wrote  more  pressing  letters, 
soliciting  his  return ;  she  expressed  herself  satisfied  with  his 
conduct,  and  was  willing  to  entrust  her  own  dignity,  and  the 
safety  of  her  son,  to  Albany's  keeping. 

Such  vacillation  was  unpalatable  enough  to  the  English 
court.  For  months  had  the  King  and  the  Cardinal  been  using 
their  endeavours  to  exclude  Albany  from  Scotland  ;  not  without 
hopes  of  success.  If  they  prospered  in  their  purpose,  Scotland, 
as  Dacre  expressed  his  conviction,  would  go  to  ruin  for  lack  of 
justice  ;  the  Scotch  lords  would  never  consent  to  be  ruled  by 
one  of  their  peers,  and  their  ancient  feuds  would  be  revived 
with  greater  animosity  than  ever.^  To  be  frustrated  of  hopes, 
BO  near  their  accomplishment,  and  from  a  quarter  so  little 
expected,  was  a  bitter  disappointment.  Dacre,  than  whom 
no  one  was  better  fitted  by  temper,  by  training,  by  the  callous- 

1  III.  481,  482.     These  events  are  early  as  Oct.,  1518.     It  is  also  to  be 

referred  by  Pinkerton  (Hist,  of  Scot-  observed,    that     Angus    dates    from 

land,  ii.  174)  to  1518.     But,  if  Leslie  Dalkeith,    to   which   place   James    V. 

is  to  be  trusted,  the  dispute  between  had  been  carried  by  him  in  September, 

Arran  and  Angus  did  not-  break  out  in   consequence    of   the   plague    then 

until  the  autumn  of  1519.     {Be  Rebus  raging    in    Edinburgh.       (Leslie,    ib. 

Gcitis  Scot.,  p.  374.)     Nor  is  it  likely  p.  374. 
T    at    Angas    would    have    requested  -  III.  482,  416,  467. 

■ury  to  write  to  the  King  of  France,  ^  III.  396. 

behalf  of  his  brother  George,  as 


1519.]  DACEE   REMONSTRATES   WITH  MARGARET.  515 


ness  of  continual  Border  warfare,  and  the  roughness  of  band 
and  heart  begotten  of  such  employment,  to  act  the  part  of  a 
stern  and  inflexible  monitor,  was  selected  to  remonstrate  with 
Margaret  on  her  misconduct.  He  fulfilled  his  mission  duly. 
He  expressed  his  astonishment  that,  considering  the  suspicious 
circumstances  attending  the  death  of  her  son,  and  Albany's 
"brutal  oaths  and  iDromises,"  she  had  ventured  to  infringe 
the  articles  stipulated  in  the  treaty  with  France  for  keeping 
the  Duke  out  of  Scotland — arrangements,  as  he  asserted, 
exclusively  contrived  to  protect  her  own  interests.  He  desired 
her  to  assure  him,  under  her  own  hand,  for  he  would  accept 
no  other  evidence,  whether  the  report  of  her  having  written  to 
Francis,  desu-ing  Albany's  return,  was  well  founded.  He 
hoped  she  would  be  aljle  to  deny  it,  or  give  satisfactory 
reasons  for  her  conduct,  that  he  might  inform  her  brother 
accordingly.  If,  unhappily  the  facts  should  i^rove  to  be  as 
they  were  reported,  he  assured  her  that  her  brother  would 
"  take  less  aspect "  to  her  causes,  and  show  himself  much  less 
cordial  than  he  had  done  hitherto.^ 

For  an  English  subject,  of  no  rank  or  authority,  to  write 
in  such  a  fashion  to  an  independent  Sovereign,  was  a  pre- 
sumption few  princes  would  have  tolerated.  Her  reply ^  was 
in  a  milder  tone  than,  under  the  circumstances,  could  have 
been  anticipated.  She  admitted  that  she  had  formerly  desired 
the  removal  of  Albany,  but  justified  herself  from  the  charge 
of  inconsistency  on  the  ground  that  she  had  done  so  believmg 
that  the  Scottish  lords  would  have  put  an  end  to  their  disputes, 
and  have  suffered  her  to  enjoy  her  rights  in  peace  according 
to  their  promise.  She  insisted,  on  the  contrary,  that  she  had 
been  treated  with  no  consideration,  and  had  never  experienced 
less  respect  than  since  her  last  coming  into  Scotland.  Her 
repeated  complaints  to  her  brother  and  the  Cardinal,  she  told 
Dacre,  had  received  no  answer.  She  excused  her  invitation 
to  Albany,  on  the  plea  that  a  letter  had  been  indited  to  him 
in  French,  by  his  own  desire  and  that  of  the  lords  ;  and  when 
she  was  required  to  sign  it  she  could  not  resist  their  impor- 
tunity, lest  she  should  imperil  the  welfare  of  her  son  and  his 
realm.  "  My  Lord,"  she  continued,  not  without  some  show 
of  reason,  "  I  pray  you  remember  that  and  you  were  in  another 
realm  where  you  should  live  your  life,  ye  would  do  that  ye 
might  to  please  them,  so  that  they  should  not  have  any 
mistrust  of  you ;  and  so  must  I ;  for  and  I  should  refuse  to 

'  III.  373.  ^  III.  381. 


516  THE   REIGN   OF   HEXRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

have  written  when  I  was  desh-eiT,  the  Duke  and  the  lords 
would  have  thought  that  I  had  stopped  his  coming,  and  there- 
through I  might  get  evil." 

But  the  truth  is  that  Margaret's  alliance  wdth  Albany  at 
this  time  was  much  more  intimate  than  she  w^as  willing  to 
admit,  or  than  Dacre,  with  his  dreaded  Argus-eyes,  had  been 
able  to  discover.     She  had  fully  resolved  already,  not  only  to 
part   with   Angus,  but   if  possible  to  obtain  a  divorce.     To 
accompHsh  this  object^  Albany's  friendship  was  indispensable. 
As  he  disposed  of  all  the  ecclesiastical  benefices  in  Scotland, 
and   had   consequently  great   influence  in  the   Papal  court, 
success  would  be  certain,  if  he  could  be  persuaded  to  further 
her  suit ;  at  all  events,  so  long  as  she  continued  on  bad  terms 
with  him,  his  opposition  at  the  court  of  Eome  would  prove  a 
formidable,  if  not  an  insurmountable,  obstacle  to  her  wishes. 
What  steps  were  taken  by  the  Duke  in  this  matter,  at  what 
time  he  first  lent  himself  to  Margaret's  purposes,  it  is  im- 
possible, in  the  absence  of  documentary  evidence,  to   state 
precisely.     But  it  appears  by  a  letter  from  De   GigHs,  the 
Bishop  of  Worcester,  to  Wolsey,  that  the  Duke  had  obtained 
leave  from  Francis  to  visit  Kome,  and  was  expected  there  in 
April,  1520.^     He  was  certainly  there  in  June  the  same  year. 
He  must  have  returned  to  Paris  a  short  time  after  the  Field 
of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  for  he  was  nominally  put  under  arrest 
by  Francis,  and  was  already  at  liberty  in  November!^    Long 
after  he  had  left  Piome  his  factor  was  still  employed  at  the 
Pioman  court  in  soliciting  Margaret's  divorce;^  for,  as  in  the 
more  famous  case  of  her  brother,  such  suits  were  not  easily 
or  rapidly  determined. 

The  alHance  of  Albany  and  Margaret  was  a  perilous  gash 
to  the  authority  of  Angus  and  to  English  influence  in  Scotland. 
As  afterwards  in  the  days  of  Queen  Mary,  it  was  the  policy 
of  England  to  neutralize  the  independence  of  Scotland,  by 
fomenting  disputes  among  the  nobles  ;  many  of  whom  were 
ready  to  accept  English  gold,  and  sacrifice  the  welfare  of 
their  country  to  party  vengeance,  or  party  aggrandizement. 
In  both  cases  the  policy  of  England  had  the  same  object ;  it 
aimed  at  rendering  the  Sovereign  hateful  to  the  mass  of  the 
nation,  at  no  time  much  inclined  to  respect  the  royal  authority. 
But  in  Mary's  case,  English  statesmen,  either  more  keen- 
sighted   or   more  favoured  by  circumstances,  cultivated  the 

1  See  III.  720.  880.  «  III.  1044. 

3  Oct.  10,  1521 ;  No.  1654. 


1520.]  ALLIANCE   OF  MARGARET   WITH  ALBANY.  517 

good  will  and  courted  the  support  of  the  commons ;  and  the 
commons  in  return,  trampled  on  and  neglected  hj  the  lords, 
and  equally  indifferent  which  part}^  of  the  aristocracy  gained 
the  ascendancy,  held  steadily  to  the  friendship  of  England, 
and  saw  in  its  predominance  a  better  chance  for  their  own 
prosperity  and  aggrandizement  than  in  the  rule  of  their  native 
sovereigns,  or  the  arbitrary  conduct  of  their  native  nobility. 
Hem-y  YIII.  had  no  such  advantages,  or  failed  to  perceive  and 
secure  them ;  and  so  long  as  Margaret  was  ready  to  be  guided 
by  his  counsels,  no  other  arts  for  ensuring  political  pre- 
dominance in  Scotland  were  sought  for  or  desired.  Supported 
by  her  zealous  but  interested  aid,  backed  by  Angus  and  the 
Homes,  really  if  not  nominally  possessed  of  the  young  King's 
person,  Albany  banished,  the  Scottish  communication  with 
the  continent  intercepted,  the  King  and  the  Cardinal  might 
justly  consider  that  English  influence  was  supreme  in  Scotland, 
and  neglect  all  further  precautions  to  secure  it.  If  the  Scots 
wished  to  live  in  peace  and  safety,  friendship  with  England 
was  indispensable.  At  every  full  moon,  destructive  forays 
carried  fire  and  sword  to  their  homesteads  ;  villages,  castles, 
and  monasteries  were  given  indiscriminately  to  the  flames ; 
border  hate  and  border  warfare  recognized  no  distinction  of 
age  or  sex,  of  things  sacred  or  profane.  Devastation,  followed 
by  famine  and  by  pestilence,  and  persisted  in  with  unrelenting 
severity,  was  the  never-failing  scourge  by  which  the  Scots 
were  taught  to  feel  the  consequence  of  English  hostility. 
And  as  this  age  stamps  out  a  cattle  plague,  so  that  age 
stamped  out  religious,  moral,  political,  and  national  plagues, 
or  what  they  considered  to  be  such,  by  fire  and  sword,  by  the 
rack  or  the  headsman's  axe.  It  was  the  rule  of  the  strong  ; 
the  justice  and  righteousness  of  which  no  one  in  those  days 
thought  of  disputing. 

But  the  quarrels  between  Angus  and  Margaret  gave 
encouragement  to  the  opposite  party,  of  which  Arran  was  the 
head.  It  was  the  policy  of  the  latter  to  promote  Albany's 
return.  Plis  presence  was  considered  not  only  as  a  guarantee 
for  the  national  independence  of  Scotland,  but  as  a  pledge  of 
help  from  France,  and  a  defiance  to  England.  For  these 
reasons  various  applications  had  been  made  to  Francis  in  the 
Duke's  favour  ;  but  without  immediate  success.  The  return 
of  Albany  would  have  been  the  signal  for  war  with  England  ; 
and  Francis  was  already  engaged  too  deeply  in  hostilities 
with  the  Emperor  to  augment  the  forces   of  his  enemy  by 


ol8  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

acceding  to  the  wishes  of  Albany's  partizans/  To  gain  time, 
to  pacify  the  dissensions  of  the  nobles,  and  excuse  himself 
from  comph'ing  with  their  requests,  Francis  sent  two  ambas- 
sadors into  Scotland^  in  the  autumn  of  1520. 

War  at  that  juncture  did  not  suit  the  purposes  or  inclina- 
tions of  either  nation.  England  was,  in  fact,  not  less  anxious 
for  peace  than  Scotland.  More  was  to  be  gained  by  policy 
than  by  the  sword.  Already  by  indirect  means  Henry  had 
contrived  to  make  the  French  King  the  unconscious  instru- 
ment of  his  wishes.  If  he  could  be  induced  to  persevere  in  his 
resolution,  and  keep  Albany  in  France,  the  Duke's  interests 
would  be  effectually  weakened,  his  party  divided,  and  Margaret, 
by  threats  or  by  cajolery,  might  be  detached  from  the  cause 
she  had  so  inconsiderately  adopted.^  So  Wolsey,  or  rather 
Dacre,  his  representative  in  the  North,  set  to  work  to  carry 
out  this  policy  strictly  to  the  letter.  Money  was  offered  to 
the  more  needy  or  less  scrupulous  of  the  Scottish  lords ; 
English  protection,  or  refuge  in  the  English  borders,  was 
extended  to  those  whose  turbulence  and  disaffection  made 
even  Scotland  too  strict  and  constrained  a  residence  for  their 
disorderly  habits ;  and  Margaret  was  lectured,  taunted, 
threatened,  in  a  style  which  Tudor  blood  was  rarely  accus- 
tomed to  brook  with  patience. 

The  adherents  of  the  Duke  lost  neither  hope  nor  heart. 
They  redoubled  their  efforts  at  the  court  of  France  to  procure 
the  return  of  Albany.  Eumours  circulated,  no  one  knew  how, 
or  from  what  quarter,  that  the  Duke  was  to  land  in  Scotland 
in  company  with  the  exile  De  la  Pole,  the  White  Eose.  Backed 
by  the  power  of  France,  Scotland  was  to  give  a  new  King  to 
England,  and  trample  in  the  dust  its  proud  and  unrelenting 
enemies.^  The  growing  discontents  between  the  courts  of 
France  and  England  lent  plausibility  to  these  reports.  With 
what  anxiety  and  jealousy  the  rumour  was  regarded  by  Henry 
VHI.  and  the  Cardinal;  what  efforts  were  used  to  throw 
discredit  upon  it ;  how  incessant,  how  strict,  how  eager,  was 
the  watch  kept  upon  Albany's  movements — will  be  seen  by  the 
letters  of  the  Enghsh  ambassadors.  The  Duke's  familiarity 
with  Francis,  his  preparations,  his  ships,  his  real  or  imaginary 
projects,  his  threats,  promises,  and  intentions,  were  all  closely 
scrutinized,  analyzed,  and  weighed  in  the  sensitive  balance  of 

III.  1046.  instructing  him  liow  lie  is  to  proceed 

III.  1046,  1091,  1126-1127.  in  these  matters :  III.  1169,  1170. 

^  See Wolse/stwoletters  to  Dacre,  *  III.  1403. 


1521.]  ALBANY  EETUKNS   TO   SCOTLAND.  519 

jealousy  and  suspicion.  He  came  and  went  with  more  than 
fehne  rapiditj'  and  noiselessness,  "When  every  one  felt  con- 
vinced that  he  had  started  on  his  mission,  and  would  be  next 
heard  of  at  the  head  of  a  victorious  army  in  Scotland, 
suddenly,  to  the  amazement  of  all,  he  would  reappear  in  the 
French  court,  and  falsify  all  anticipations.  One  night,  about 
the  1st  or  2nd  of  October,  1521,  he  was  missed  :  "  Albany," 
writes  Fitzwilliam  to  Wolsey,  on  the  4th,  in  cipher  and  breath- 
less haste — "  Albany  has  left  the  court ;  but  whither  I  cannot 
tell,  nor  whether  he  will  return."  Again,  on  the  6th,  and 
again  in  cipher  as  before :  "As  for  the  duke  of  Albany,  I 
cannot  learn  whither  he  has  gone  :  some  show  me  he  is  gone 
to  my  Lad}^  (the  mother  of  Francis  I.),  but  whether  it  be  true 
or  not,  I  know  not."  The  next  time,  that  is  some  weeks  later, 
he  is  heard  of  in  Scotland ;  but  how  he  got  there,  and  when 
and  where  he  landed,  no  one  could  tell.^ 

It  was  not  without  feelings  of  triumph  that  Margaret  wrote 
on  the  4th  of  December,  from  Edinburgh,  to  Dacre  (whom, 
with  all  her  professions  of  regard,  she  must  have  cordially 
detested,  and  not  the  least  because  of  the  necessity  of  such 
professions),  that  Albany  had  returned.  The  grammar,  the 
handwriting,  and  the  spelling  of  her  letter,  always  very 
uncouth  and  generally  unintelligible,  are  on  this  occasion 
more  uncouth  and  disconnected  than  usual.  The  flurry  of  her 
spirits,  her  feminine  delight  at  this  opportunity  of  retaliating 
on  Dacre's  superciliousness,  seem  to  have  been  too  strong  for 
her  logic,  and  to  have  overpowered  her  small  grasp  of  syntax 
— feeble  at  the  best.  But  the  reader  shall  judge  for  himself, 
for  here  are  her  very  words.  I  could  not  think  of  inflicting 
upon  him  her  spelling  and  punctuation.^ 

"  My  lord  Dacre,  I  commend  me  to  you,  and  wit  ye  that  my  lord  duke 
of  Albany,  governor  of  Scotland,  is  come  for  to  do  service  to  the  King  my 
son  and  to  the  realm,  and  to  help  me  to  be  answered  and  obeyed  of  my 
living,  the  which  I  have  great  need  of  ;  for  there  was  never  gentlewoman 
of  my  estate  so  evil  intreated,  and  my  living  holden  from  me,  as  I  have 
written  often  times  to  you  of  before.  Suppose  ye  erar  (rather)  hindei-ed 
nie  tlian  furthered  me,  which  had  not  been  your  part  to  do  :  not  the  less, 
since  my  lord  Governor  is  come  into  this  realm  for  the  good  of  it,  and  will 
for  his  part  help  to  entertain  the  amity  and  i^eace  betwixt  the  King's 
grace  my  brother's  said  realm  and  this  ;  wherefore  1  trust  it  will  be  siklike 
the  King  my  brother's  mind  to  do  the  same,  as  I  trust  it  has  not  been  his 

'  Albany,  in  his  letters  to  Henry  1851-3.     According  to  Leslie  (p.  378), 

VIII.    and    Katharine    of    Arragon,  it  was   at   the    Garcloch  in   Lennox, 

states  that  he  landed  in  Scotland  on  He    eluded    Ids    enemies    by   sailing 

the  18th  of  Nov. ;  but  he  studiously  round  the  West  of  Ireland, 
avoids  saying  at  what  port.     See  III.  ^  III.  1833. 


520  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

mind  otherwise.  Suppose  his  servants  have  not  done  their  part  in  the 
keeping  of  the  same,  but  as  yet  I  pray  you  my  lord  to  do  it  that  ye  should 
do  of  reason  for  the  King's  grace  my  brother's  and  your  master's  honor, 
for  he  should  keep  it  that  he  promised,  and  specially  to  this  realm,  con- 
sidering the  King  my  son  is  so  tender  to  his  Grace,  and  I  never  failed  to 
him  nor  shall  not. 

"  I  would  have  thought  to  have  had  thank  of  the  King's  grace  my 
brother,  and  of  the  realm  of  England,  that  I  have  kept  a  good  part  to  this 
realm,  both  for  his  honor  and  mine  ;  or  else  all  the  world  might  have 
sj)oken  evil  of  me  to  have  done  the  contrary  to  the  King  my  son  and  the 
weal  of  this  realm,  which  could  not  have  been  well  guided  without  the 
duke  of  Albany  [being]  governor  of  this  realm,  for  my  son  the  King  is  not 
of  age  to  do  it  himself. 

"  But,  my  lord,  I  know  Avell  ye  have  done  your  part  to  hinder  me  at 
the  King's  grace  my  brother's  hand.  Why  may  ye  not  fail  to  me,  when  ye 
fail  to  the  ICing's  grace  my  brother  ?  And  better  mend  in  time  ne  to  be 
worse.  Vvliich  an  ye  do  not,  it  will  be  occasion  to  this  realm  and  my  lord 
Governor  to  do  such  like  as  ye  have  done  ;.  which  is  receiving  of  rebels 
and  maintaining  of  them  ;  which  an  ye  do  not  mend,  it  will  be  laid  to  your 
charge  hereafter  by  the  King's  grace  my  brother. 

''My  lord,  I  write  sharply  and  plainly  to  you,  for  I  have  good  cause, 
both  for  the  King  my  son's  sake  and  mine  own  ;  for  ye  have  fortified  my 
lord  of  Angus  against  me,  and  counselled  him  to  trouble  me,  in  the 
contrary  of  the  band  that  ye  caused  me  to  take  of  him,  which  ye  would 
break  again  ;  which  ye  should  not  have  done  to  your  master's  sister.  And 
your  answer,  what  shall  be  your  part,  that  I  and  this  world  may  lippen 
to;^  and  God  keep  you.     Written  at  Edinburgh,  4  Dec. 

"  Your  friend, 

"  Margaret  R." 

AVhat  an  outburst  of  smouldering  wrath,  what  a  torrent  of 
indignation  !  But  it  fell  upon  Dacre  with  as  much  effect  as 
the  rain  might  have  pattered  against  any  of  his  own  granite 
rocks.  An  iron  man,  too  long  accustomed,  by  his  wild  and 
irregular  mode  of  life,  to  the  tears  of  women  and  children,  and 
the  muttered  curses  of  dying  men,  Dacre  neither  crumbled 
into  dust  at  her  disapprobation,  nor  quailed  before  her  anger. 
More  mortifying  still,  he  showed  himself  not  only  insensible 
to  her  sarcasms,  but  careless  in  his  own  vindication,  and  fully 
prepared  to  repeat  his  offences.  In  the  guise  of  a  letter  he 
read  her  a  lecture  on  her  own  misconduct  more  in  the  style  of 
a  prince  than  of  a  subject  replying  to  a  queen.  His  answer  is 
a  model  of  consummate  coolness,  unflinching  self-confidence, 
and  grave  rebuke.  His  measured  tone,  his  stony  coldness,  his 
supreme  indifference  to  her  praise  or  censure,  form  a  striking 
contrast  to  Margaret's  waspish,  spasmodic,  and  undignified 
attack.  But  under  that  stony  coldness  he  contrived  to  convey 
as  much  contempt  and  anger,  though  couched  in  phrases  of 
seeming  courtesy  and  respect,  as  in  his  prudence  he  dared 
to  exhibit.     Bitter  throughout,  the  letter  culminates  at  its 

'  i.e.  rely  or  depend  on. 


1521.]  DACEE'S  KEPLY   TO  MARGARET.  521 

close  in  a  concentrated  shower  of  gall  and  wormwood,  beneath 
which  the  offended  woman  and  imprudent  Queen  must  have 
shrunk  and  cowered,  in  vain  regret  at  her  own  folly  and  mis- 
conduct.    Here  it  is  : — ^ 

"Madam,  I  recommend  me  unto  your  Grace,  and  have  received  your 
writing  by  a  messenger  this  bearer.  And  whereas  ye  advertise  me  that 
the  duke  of  Albany,  your  governor  of  Scotland,  is  come  to  do  service  to 
the  King  yoiu-  son  and  his  realm,  and  to  help  you  to  be  answered  of  your 
living  ;  and  that  I  rather  hindered  your  Grace  than  furthered  ;  and  that 
your  said  governor  is  come  for  peace,  and  will  for  his  j^art  entreat  the 
unity  and  peace  between  my  Sovereign  your  brother's  realm  and  Scotland  ; 
and  that  my  Sovereign's  servants  have  not  done  theii*  part  in  keeping  of 
the  same  ;  and  that  ye  pray  me  that  I  should  do  that  I  ought  to  do,  upon 
reason,  for  the  King  my  sovereign's  honor  ;  and  that  his  highness  should 
keep  that  he  promises  to  that  realm  ;  and  that  ye  never  faulted  to  my 
Sovereign,  nor  shall  not  do. ;  and  that  your  Grace  thought  to  have  had 
thanks  of  my  Sovereign  and  his  realm  that  ye  have  kept  so  great  a  party, 
both  for  his  honor  and  yours,  or  else  all  the  world  would  have  spoken  ill 
of  your  Grace  to  him,  doing  the  contrary,  for  the  weal  of  your  son  and  his 
realm  ;  and  that  your  said  son  should  not  have  been  well  guided  without 
the  duke  of  Albany  your  governor  ;  and  that  ye  are  informed  that  I  have 
hindered  you  at  my  Sovereign's  hand,  and  why  should  not  I  fail  to  you 
when  I  fail  to  my  sovereign  Lord  ;  and  better  to  mend  betime  than  to  do 
worse,  wliich  will  be  occasion  to  the  governor  to  do  the  same  which  I  have 
done, — that  is,  receiving  of  rebels,  and  maintaining  of  them, — the  which, 
if  I  mend  not,  will  be  laid  to  my  charge  ;  and  that  your  Grace  writes 
plainly  to  me  because  of  your  son's  sake  and  your  own  ;  and  that  I  have 
given  my  lord  of  Angus  counsel  against  you  for  your  trouble,  in  such 
things  as  I  gave  you  counsel  in  to  take  of  him,  the  which  I  would  break 
again  ;  and  that  I  should  not  so  do  to  my  Sovereign's  sister  ;  and  that  I 
should  give  you  answer  what  your  Grace  and  that  realm  might  lippen  to  ; — 

"Madam,  to  make  you  answer  of  your  writing,  that  is  to  me  right 
hard  and  difficult,  because  ye  have  made  it  by  the  advice  of  the  duke  of 
Albany,  for  his  pleasure.  And  what  suspicion  my  sovereign  Lord  and  his 
realm  will  think  that  the  said  Duke  should  have  the  keeping  of  the  King 
your  son  my  sovereign  Lord's  nephew,  and  of  his  realm  and  subjects,  in 
rule  and  governance,  seeing  the  pretended  title  that  the  said  Duke 
claimeth  to  the  crown,  ye  being  so  favorably  assenting  to  the  same  ; 
Madam,  I  fear  me  ye  forget  natural  affection  and  provident  reason,  and  is 
abused  with  sinister  council  and  blind  i^ersuasions  ;  and  what  desire  may 
be  imprinted  in  the  hearts  of  high-minded  men  to  aspire  to  high  dignities, 
in  the  which  case  often  times  the  fear  of  God  and  the  shame  of  the  world 
is  laid  apart ;  and  if  all  this  suspicion  come  of  your  Grace  to  the  King 
your  brother  and  his  council,  how  his  Highness  will  esteem  your  light 
dealing,  so  little  regarding  your  son  his  nephew  ; — T  will  refer  that  to  his 
high  pleasure.  And  as  unto  the  keeping  of  the  peace,  and  receiving  of 
rebels  and  maintaining  of  them,  Madam,  I  have  made  answer  thereof  to 
the  Duke,  which  is,  that  there  is  none  receipt  to  my  knowledge  ;  nor  no 
breach  nor  occasion  of  breach  of  peace  be  of  the  party  of  England  ;  so  I 
have  in  commandment  of  his  highness  along  all  his  marches  to  do. 

"  Madam,  where  ye  say  ye  never  faulted  to  my  Sovereign,  but  deserved 
thanks  of  his  Highness  and  his  realm  for  keeping  of  his  honor  and  yours, 
I  i)ray  God  his  Grace  may  take  it  so  in  form  thereof.  And  where  your 
Grace  saith  I  liave  hindered  you  at  my  Sovereign's  hand,  and  that  I  can- 
not be  true  to  my  sovereign  Lord,  when  I  cannot  be  true  to  you  ;  Madam 

'  Calig.  B.  vi.  197  b.     B.M. 


522  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

it  becomes  not  me  to  make  such  information  as  ye  allege.  And  as  to  my 
truth  and  duty  of  allegiance,  1  am  sure  of  myself  ;  I  fear  not ;  would  God 
in  mine  opinion  ye  were  as  sure  of  yourself,  no  comparison  made  to  a 
great  jM-ince's  birth  as  your  Grace  is,  to  a  poor  wretch  and  subject  as 
1  am. 

"  And  whereas  ye  are  informed  that  I  should  give  counsel  to  my  lord 
of  Angus  against  your  Grace  in  such  things  as  I  gave  you  counsel  to  take 
of  him  ;  Madam,  I  gave  him  never  counsel,  but  that  it  might  stand  with 
your  honor  according  to  my  duty,  as  I  am  bound  to  do,  for  your  Grace. 
And  inasmuch  as  ye  took  him  to  be  your  husband,  at  your  pleasure,  with- 
out consent  or  counsel  of  your  brother,  my  Sovereign,  or  any  other  of  his 
natural  subjects,  it  were  your  honor  to  resort  to  him,  according  as  ye  are 
bound  by  the  laws  of  God,  or  else  to  show  the  cause  why,  by  the  order  of 
justice,  for  the  declaration  of  your  conscience. 

"Madam,  I  humbly  beseech  your  Grace  to  pardon  me  of  my  rude 
Avriting,  for  my  truth  leads  me.  If  I  otherwise  should  write,  I  should 
flatter  your  Grace,  and  not  to  say  by  mine  opinion  as  I  suppose.  As  our 
Lord  knoweth,  who  have  your  Grace  in  keeping. 

"  At  Norham,  8th  December." 

So  contemptuous  a  letter,  so  disparaging  to  Margaret's 
judgment,  conduct,  and  abilities,  on  which  she  prided  herself, 
was  ill  calculated  to  gain  her  esteem  or  disarm  her  resentment 
in  the  hour  of  her  triumph.  She  wrote  the  day  after  to  Henry, 
reiterating  her  assertion  that  Albany  had  come  into  Scotland 
for  the  good  of  her  son.  Her  son,  she  said,  was  young — the 
realm  deficient  in  good  rule  and  justice ;  and  the  Duke's 
presence  would  prove  the  best  remedy  for  these  evils.  As  if 
to  insinuate  the  intimate  nature  of  that  alliance  which  had 
now  sprung  up  between  herself  and  the  Duke,  the  latter  had 
written  six  days  before  to  Dacre,  accusing  him  of  harbouring 
Scotch  fugitives,  and  threatening  to  disclose  his  misdeeds  to 
the  King  of  England  :  whilst  Margaret,  in  a  letter  to  her 
brother,  complains  that  his  subjects  received  "rebels  and 
broken  men  ;  "  and,  to  leave  no  doubt  at  whom  this  accusation 
was  levelled,  added  that  she  had  remonstrated  with  Dacre  for 
neglecting  his  duty,  and  only  received  from  him  a  sharp  letter 
in  reply.  He  ought  to  be  commanded,  she  said,  to  keep  better 
rule  upon  the  Borders ;  his  imputations  on  her  actions  pro- 
ceeded from  malice  ;  whilst  Albany  ever  since  his  arrival  had 
paid  her  great  deference,  and  consulted  her  wishes  on  all 
occasions. 

Is  it  to  be  imagined  that  Margaret  was  so  ignorant  of  her 
brother's  temper  as  to  suppose  that  her  remonstrances  would 
produce  any  other  effect  than  a  passing  fit  of  irritation  ?  Could 
she  think  that  Henry  would  share  her  views,  and  mark  his 
displeasure  of  Dacre's  conduct  by  disgracing  him  ?  If  her 
letters,  as  it  suited  Dacre's  purpose  to  insinuate,  were  really 


1521.]  GAWIX   DOUGLAS   SENT   TO   ENGLAND.  523 

dictated  by  Albany,  and  not  written  freely  by  herself  in  the 
varj-iug  passions  of  the  hour,  the  Duke  deserved  for  these 
exhibitions  of  laborious  sj^ite  and  petty  malice  the  contempt 
which  was  afterwards  showered  upon  him  by  both  nations. 
But  this  hypothesis  is  hardly  compatible  with  the  effect  pro- 
duced by  Albany's  presence  on  his  own  peo^Dle.     His  reappear- 
ance restored  fresh  confidence  to  his  adherents,  and  struck  his 
enemies  with  unimaginable  terrors.     In  their  uncertainty  and 
bewilderment  they  des^Datched  Gawin  Douglas,  the  Bishop  of 
Dunkeld,  to  England,   with   instructions   to   represent   their 
danger,  and  desiring  him  to  learn  "  what  supply  the  King's 
grace  would  do  them."     Their  statements,  like  those  of  violent 
partizans,  must  be  read  with  caution ;  but,  with  the  largest 
allowance  for  exaggeration  and  misstatement,  natural  on  such 
occasions,  it  is  clear  that  Margaret  was  now  closely  united 
with    Albany,    and    that    English    influence    had    suddenly 
collapsed.    The  Queen,  they  reported,  was  much  inclined  to  the 
Duke's  pleasure ;  the  two  were  always  together,  either  forenoon 
or  afternoon ;  a  divorce  between  her  and  Angus  was  in  con- 
templation ;  on  his  arrival  the  Duke  had  visited  the  Queen  at 
Stirling,  had  gone  in  her  company  first  to  Linlithgow,  and 
afterwards  to  Edinburgh,  where  the  King  was  then  residing. 
Here  the  Duke  had,  on  receiving  the   keys   of  the  Castle, 
delivered  them  to  the  Queen,  who  returned  them  to  Albany. 
They  complained  that  to  secure  her  favour  he  had  enriched 
her  servants  and  promoted  her  favourites  :  he  had  made  the 
Bishop  of  Glasgow  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrew's,  and  advanced 
the  Abbot  of  Holyrood  to  the  see  of  Glasgow  :  whilst  Cantley, 
so  often  mentioned  in  this  correspondence,  was  enriched  with 
the  abbey  of  Kilwinning  and  two  other  benefices. 

These  assertions  lost  nothing  of  their  pungency  and  sig- 
nificance in  the  mouth  of  the  Bishop  of  Dunkeld.  Facts  were 
indiscriminately  marshalled  with  fiction,  the  wildest  surmises 
with  probable  inferences.  In  his  memorial  against  the  Duke, 
addi'essed  by  the  Bishop  to  those  who  were  not  likely  to  be 
exact  or  critical  in  testing  the  accuracy  of  his  statements,^ 
Albany  was  stigmatized  as  the  son  of  a  rebel,  without  a  foot 
of  land  in  Scotland  or  France,  incapable  of  being  the  King's 
tutor,  or  of  holding  any  office.  His  conduct,  said  his  episcopal 
denouncer,  was  actuated  by  the  sole  motive  of  fear,  and  all  his 
measures  were  taken  accordingly.  He  had  removed  the  King 
"  of  right  tender  age,"  from  the  castle  of  Stirling,  where  ho 

'  IIL  1898. 


524  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

was  well  at  ease,  "  to  the  windy  and  right  unj)leasant  castle 
and  rock  of  Edinburgh."  He  had  "stuffed"  Dunbar,  Dum- 
barton, Inchgarvy,  and  Stirling  with  Frenchmen ;  while  the 
royal  residences  and  revenues  were  appropriated  by  his 
favourites  or  foreigners,  "  whilk  are  but  very  knaves."  "  The 
King's  rich  gowns  of  most  fine  cloth  of  gold,  furred  with  finest 
sables,  he  has  analit "  (wasted),  continues  the  Bishop,  "to- 
gether with  the  hangings  and  apparellings  of  his  chambers 
palit  of  purple  and  velvet  cramosyn,  and  made  clothing  thereof 
to  some  of  his  pages  and  servants,  and  has  coined  in  placks 
(groats)  the  King's  great  silver  stoups,  double  gilt,  that  in  the 
whole  mounts  to  one  right  great  sum."  To  add  to  his  offences 
he  had  sold  three  of  the  King's  great  ships,  worth  300,000 
francs,  with  their  ordnance  ;  ^  had  disposed  of  lands,  forfeitures, 
wardships,  marriages,  benefices,  bishojDrics,  at  his  pleasure. 
Since  his  return,  continues  the  exasperated  prelate,  his  wrath 
kindling  at  the  recital,  he  has  imposed  a  tax  upon  Scotland  of 
2o,000L  Scotch;  has  made  Eobert  Barton,  the  pirate,  con- 
troller ;  "  and  one  Master  John  Campbell,  ane  bastard  briber, 
quhilk  had  not  five  shillings'  worth  of  good  of  his  own,"  has 
been  appointed  treasurer.  By  their  cunning  management  the 
King  had  been  brought  into  debt  12,000L  Scotch  ;  and  yet  he 
was  so  badly  clothed  that  until  his  natural  sister,  the  Countess 
of  Morton,  took  compassion  upon  him,  he  had  scarcely  honest 
hose  or  doublet ;  and  when  Albany  and  the  Queen  sent  him 
cloth  of  silver  and  gold  for  gowns,  these  shameless  ofiicers 
had  refused  to  furnish  the  lining  ! 

Not  satisfied  with  these  grievous  accusations,  the  Bishop 
proceeded  to  charge  Albany  with  having  poisoned  or  starved  the 
Duke  of  Boss — a  statement  for  which  there  was  as  little  founda- 
tion as  for  many  others  contained  in  his  memorial.  He  com- 
pares Albany  to  Eichard  IH.,  who  paved  his  way  to  the  throne 
by  the  murder  of  his  nephews.  "  Gif,"  he  concludes,  "  this  duke 
of  Albany's  father  had  died  at  (in)  the  faith  and  peace  of  his 
prince,  and  not  rebel  or  banished,  yet  then  he  has  alive  an 
elder  brother,  Alexander  Stewart,  commendator  of  Scone  and 
Inchaffray,  not  in  holy  orders,  but  a  man  able  to  marry, 
begotten  on  the  duke  of  Albany's  first  wife,  umquhile  daughter 
to  the  earl  of  Orkney.  All  that  he  does,  therefore,  is  without 
authority,  and  in  defiance  of  the   States   of   Scotland,  who 

1  In  1515  Albany  sold  to  Francis  I.,       Of  course  the  Bishop's  statement  is 
with  the  consent  of  the  States,  the       not  to  be  interpreted  literally, 
famous  St.  Michael,  for  40,000  francs. 


« 


1521.]  ANGUS   MAKES   PEACE   \\'ITH  ALBANY.  525 

declared  he  should  not  be  reputed  governor  unless  he  had 
returned  before  the  1st  of  August." 

Whatever  exaggeration  or  falsehood  there  might  have  been 
in  these  details,  it  is  clear  from  the  general  purport  of  them 
that  Albany  had  returned  to  Scotland  resolved  to  exercise 
plenary  authority  as  governor,  and  that  the  Queen  and  the 
nobles  had  shown  no  desire  to  counteract  his  wishes.  He 
deposed  the  officers  of  Angus  on  his  arrival ;  summoned  a 
parliament ;  cited  the  lords  who  had  fled  to  appear  and  defend 
themselves ;  and  acted  with  so  much  apparent  vigour  and 
resolution,  that  Angus  was  obliged  to  seek  and  obtain  recon- 
ciliation through  Margaret's  intercession.  As  English  in- 
fluence declined,  a  spirit  of  unity  appeared  to  prevail.  With 
Margaret  devoted  to  Albany,  Angus  and  his  brother  George  in 
voluntary  exile,  the  Homes  unable  to  show  themselves,  the 
Duke  was  triumj)hant  and  experienced  little  opposition.^  To 
the  poor  Bishop  of  Dunkeld  the  blow  was  fatal.  Denounced 
at  home  as  a  traitor,  and  deprived  of  his  bishopric,^  his 
mission  to  England,  as  the  representative  of  the  disaffected 
lords,  seemed  little  better  than  a  mockery.  Confused,  ill  at 
ease,  uncertain  how  far  the  disaffection  of  his  relative  Angus 
would  be  visited  on  himself,  he  wrote  to  the  Cardinal  in  the 
following  deprecatory  and  sorrowful  terms  : — 

"  Please  it  your  Grace,  sin  1  heard  the  tidings  and  writings  of  j^ester- 
day,  I  am  and  have  been  so  dolorous  and  full  of  vehement  annoy  that  I 
dare  not  aventure  [to]  come  in  your  presence,  whilk  causes  me  thus  write 
to  your  noble  Grace  ;  beseeching  the  same  of  your  great  goodness  to  have 
companence  (compassion)  of  me,  desolate  and  woeful  wight.  Albeit  I 
grant  I  have  deserved  punition,  and  am  under  the  King's  mercy  and 
yours,  not  for  any  fault  or  demei'it  of  my  own,  but  by  reason  of  their 
untruth  that  caused  me  labor  for  the  weal  of  their  Prince  and  their 
security,  whilk  now  has  (have)  their  own  confusion  and  perpetual  shame, 
and  has  served  me,  as  your  Grace  may  consider,  that  solicited  the  King's 
highness  and  your  Grace  to  write  and  do  for  them  so  oftentimes  and  so 
largely,  in  divers  sorts,  as  well  to  their  support  and  comfort  ;  wlicreof 
now  I  must  needs  underlie  your  mercy.  Albeit  I  doubt  not  but  your  liigli 
prudence  considers  profoundly  my  part  thereof,  and  my  whole  true  mind 
all  time  but  (without)  any  dissimulance,  that  in  good  faith  am  further 
deceived  in  this  matter  than  any  others,  by  reason  whereof  I  am  so  full  of 
sorrow  and  displeasure,  that  I  am  weary  of  my  own  life,  and  promise  to 
God  and  your  noble  Grace,  as  your  liumble  servant  and  a  true  Christian 
priest,  that  I  shall  never  have  nor  take  way  with  the  duke  of  Albany,  the 

1  in.  1976.  dissensions  in  Scotland,  and  had  cir- 

*  The  see  was  jriven  by  Albany  to  culated  false  reports   of   her.     "  And 

Margaret.     (III.   1938.)      In   her   in-  sin,"  shesays,  "I  liolpod  to  j^cthim  the 

stractioDS  sent  by  one  of  her  servants  benefice  of  Dunkeld,  I  shall  help  him 

to   ITonry,  she  assorts  very   bitterly  as  well  fro  the  same."     A  truly  Tudor 

that  Dmikeld  was  the  cause  of  all  the  sentiment! 


526  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

unworthy  earl  of  Angus,  nor  no  others  that  assists  to  the  said  Duke,  but 
(without)  your  express  command  and  advice  ;  nor  never  shall  pass  into 
Scotland,  but  at  your  pleasure,  so  long  as  this  wicked  Duke  is  therein,  or 
has  rule  thereof.  And  I  trust  my  brother  and  other  my  friends  will  use 
my  counsel  ;  albeit  yon  young  witless  fool  has  run  upon  his  own  mischief 
by  continual  persuasion  of  wily,  subtle  men,  and  for  lack  of  good  counsel  ; 
showing  to  him,  I  doubt  not,  many  feigned  letters  and  wonderful  terrors, 
that  the  lord  Hume  and  others  would  pass  in  and  leave  him  alone  ;  and 
that  I  would  be  taken  and  holdeu'here  ;  and  that  Gaiter,  the  Duke's 
seci-etary,  had  appointed  Avith  tlie  King's  highness  for  his  destruction,  and 
the  Duke  to  marry  the  Queen.  I  doubt  not  sich  things,  and  mickle  mair, 
has  been  said." 

TliGH,  after  expressing  his  regret  that  a  letter  which  he 
had  sent  from  Hamilton  Court  to  his  brother  had  not  been 
desiDatched  at  an  earlier  opportunity,  he  expresses  a  wish, 
the  uncharitableness  of  which  may  be  forgiven  in  the  pressure 
of  his  misery—"  I  beseech  God  that  I  may  see  him  (Angus) 
really  punished  for  his  demerits,  and  promise  broken  made  to 
the  King's  highness  and  me  his  uncle,  and  shall  be  glad  to 
sohcit  the  King's  highness  and  your  Grace  to  this  effect  at  all 
my  power."  ^ 

Henry  and  his  ministers  had  been  inclined  in  the  first 
instance  to  treat  Albany's  arrival  in  Scotland  with  contempt. 
They  declined  to  acknowledge  the  Duke's  authority,  or  enter 
into  any  negoeiations  with  Scotland,  so  long  as  he  was  per- 
mitted to  remain.  In  conformity  with  this  resolution,  Henry 
wrote  to  the  Estates,  accusing  the  Duke  of  attempting  to 
procure  a  divorce  for  the  Queen,  with  the  intent  of  marrying 
her  himself,  and  he  urged  them  not  to  assist  Albany,  on  pain 
of  his  displeasure.^  To  his  sister  Margaret,  for  whom  he 
never  entertained  any  strong  affection,  he  addressed  a  letter, 
in  terms  of  unusual  bitterness  :  he  reproached  her  for  being 
so  easily  abused  by  Albany ;  for  her  familiarity  with  him, 
unbecoming  a  queen  and  a  woman ;  and  accused  her  of  a 
clandestine  attempt  to  get  rid  of  her  husband,  with  a  view  to 
marry  the  Duke.  The  Estates  of  Scotland  rephed  in  a  firm 
and  temperate  letter,  declining  to  accede  to  his  proposals,  and 
denying  his  imputations.  The  Duke,  they  asserted,  was  the 
lawful  governor  of  their  sovereign,  had  been  repeatedly  called 
by  them  to  that  office,  and  had  never  interfered  with  the 
custody  of  the  King's  person,  or  with  any  appointment  in  his 

'  Jan.  31    1522.     III.  2007.     The  Both  prelates  were  friends  of  Erasmns, 

Bishop  s  wish  was  not  gratified;    he  and  are  mentioaed  more  than  once  in 

died  a  tew  weeks  after  of  the  plague,  his  writino-s. 
then  raging  in  London,  and  was  bnried  -   III.  2039. 

in  the  Savoy,  close  to  Bishop  Halsey. 


1522.]  HENRY'S   DEMANDS   ARE   REJECTED.  527 

honsehokl.  They  expressed  their  surprise  that  Henry  should 
believe,  that  one  "  who  had  been  nursed  with  so  great  honor, 
and  had  so  tender  familiarity  with  popes  and  great  princes," 
would  contrive  any  harm  against  their  sovereign's  person,  or 
induce  the  Queen  to  abandon  her  husband.  If  the  King  of 
England,  they  added,  with  great  tact,  and  perfect  knowledge 
of  the  man  with  whom  they  had  to  deal,  still  insisted  on  the 
dismissal  of  Albany,  no  other  alternative  would  be  left  for 
them,  except  to  publish  to  the  world,  and  to  all  Christian 
princes,  the  necessity  they  were  under,  either  of  depriving 
Albany,  unjustly,  of  the  office  lawfully  belonging  to  him,  or  of 
submitting  to  the  peril  of  being  invaded  by  England. 

Margaret's  reply  was  couched  in  a  different  strain,  but  was 
not  less  resolute  than  theirs.  Her  Tudor  blood  was  fired  at 
the  insults  to  which  she  had  been  exposed  under  the  mask  of 
advice  and  charity.  She  remonstrated  with  Henry  for  his 
sharp  and  unkind  letter.  In  reply  to  his  insinuations  of  her 
being  so  easily  abused  by  the  Duke,  she  taxed  her  brother  for 
his  credulity  and  weakness  in  trusting  to  false  reports.  He 
possessed  but  little  sense,  she  told  him,  of  his  own  dignity,  in 
permitting  slanderous  reports  to  be  circulated  to  her  discredit, 
and  suffering  the  Cardinal  openly  to  repeat  at  the  council- 
table  that  she  loved  the  Governor  to  her  dishonour.  Her 
rumoured  divorce  from  Angus  was  a  scandal,  forged,  she  said, 
by  the  Bishop  of  Dunkeld,  and  had  never  been  contemplated 
by  herself  or  Albany.  Then,  with  something  like  a  threat, 
she  added,  that  when  the  proper  season  arrived  she  should  be 
ready  to  justify  her  conduct ;  for  she  had  retained  copies  of 
her  correspondence  wdth  the  King  of  England,  and  by  them  it 
would  appear  to  the  world  that  his  threat  of  invasion  was 
groundless  and  unjustifiable.  Had  Albany  intended  wrong  to 
her  son,  she  would  have  been  the  first  to  discover  it.  She 
had  long  hoped,  she  said,  that  her  brother  would  have 
sheltered  her  from  injury  ;  but  her  hopes  had  been  vain,  and 
now  she  had  found  a  better  friend  in  Albany  than  in  any 
other.  She  concluded  by  saying,  that  Scotland  desired  peace 
with  England,  if  it  could  be  had,  but  if  peace  could  not  be  had 
with  honour,  it  would  never  consent  to  banish  Albany.^ 

If  the  King  imagined,  as  he  reasonably  might,  that  these 
were  not  the  genuine  sentiments  of  the  Queen  and  the  nation, 
but  the  "  abusion  "  of  Albany,  he  soon  found  himself  un- 
deceived.   Acting  under  this  impression,  Clareucieux  had  been 

'  Feb.  11 ;  III.  2038. 


528  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

despatched  to  Scotland,  partly  at  Margaret's  own  desire, 
partly,  no  doubt,  from  a  wish  to  ascertain  more  precisely 
Albany's  influence  with  the  Lords.  The  herald  reached 
Edinburgh  on  Candlemas  Eve,  and  found  the  Queen,  not  in 
Halyrood  Palace,  or  in  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh  (as  might 
have  been  expected),  but  lodging  in  the  house  of  a  burgess. 
On  presenting  his  letters,  and  hearing  what  he  had  to  say, 
Margaret,  to  use  his  own  expression,  was  marvellously  abashed, 
saying  she  perceived  that  the  King  held  her  in  great  and 
heinous  displeasure,  owing  to  the  evil  reports  he  had  received. 
She  admitted  to  the  Enghsh  envoy  that  she  had  desired 
Albany's  return  to  Scotland,  confirming  most  of  the  particulars 
already  detailed  in  her  letters.  She  had  been  well  treated, 
she  said,  ever  since  his  arrival,  her  son  was  w^ell  kept,  and 
neither  of  them  had  anything  to  fear  from  the  Duke.  This 
account  of  herself  was  confirmed,  six  days  after,  by  the  Duke, 
in  whose  presence,  and  in  that  of  the  herald,  she  repeated  her 
expressions  of  gratitude  to  Albany. 

On  Sunday,  being  Candlemas  Day,^  Clarencieux  delivered 
the  King's  letters  to  Albany,  at  Holyrood  House.  After  dinner 
he  sent  for  the  herald  to  his  chamber,  and,  prefacing  what  he 
had  to  say  by  some  remarks  on  the  bitterness  of  the  King's 
letter,  stated  that  he  had  come  into  Scotland  at  the  invitation 
of  the  Lords.  He  had  taken  a  solemn  vow,  he  said,  to  return 
at  a  proper  opportunity,  and  nothing  should  tempt  him  to 
violate  his  oath.  But  as  the  Lords  had  appointed  him 
Governor,  he  would  risk  life  and  property  in  their  service. 
Then  glancing  at  Henry's  coarse  insinuation  of  his  "  damnable 
abusion  "  of  the  King's  sister,  and  his  attempt  to  marry  her, 
he  told  the  herald  that  when  he  was  last  at  Eome  Margaret 
had  requested  him  to  obtain  for  her  a  divorce,  as  she  was 
unkindly  treated  by  Angus  ;  but  he  swore  by  the  Sacrament, 
which  he  had  seen  that  day  between  the  priest's  hands,  he 
never  intended  to  marry  her ;  and  he  marvelled  that  the  King 
should  think  so  ill  of  his  sister,  and  that  the  Cardinal  should 
have  stated  openly  in  the  council  chamber  that  the  Duke 
treated  the  Queen  as  if  she  were  his  wife  or  his  concubine. 
He  expressed  his  desire  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with  England, 
but  if  he  were  attacked  he  would  do  the  best  to  defend  himself. 

The  herald  met  with  no  better  success  at  his  interview  with 
the  Lords,  then  assembled  in  parliament  at  the  Tolbooth.  On 
delivering  his  charge  to  the  chancellor  of  Scotland  he  desired 

'  III.  2054,. 


1522.]  THE   ANSWER   TO   CLARENCIEUX.  529 

that  the  Kmg's  letter  might  be  read  aloud,  in  the  hope  of 
creating  a  division  among  them  or  eliciting  some  expressions 
of  disapprobation  from  those  who  were  thought  unfavourable 
to  the  Duke.     But  in  this  also  he  was  disappointed. 

He  was  received,  as  he  tells  Wolsey,  with  "  grim  and  angry- 
looks,"  both  of  "  high  and  low."  It  requires  no  effort  of 
imagination  to  picture  the  blanched  and  menacing  features 
of  these  ancient  rivals  of  England,  exasperated  to  the  utter- 
most by  repeated  injuries  ;  more  accustomed  to  war  and  blood- 
shed than  counsel  and  debate ;  resembling  rather  a  gathering 
of  grim  soldiers  than  a  peaceful  assemblage  of  senators.  The 
representative  of  England  stood  before  them,  wearing  on  his 
tabard  the  insignia  of  that  nation  they  most  hated.  He  carried 
in  his  hands  a  letter,  conceived  in  terms  more  dictatorial  than 
any  Scotchman  would  have  tolerated  from  his  native  and 
lawful  sovereign. 

The  herald  was  desired  to  withdraw;  he  was  told,  on  his 
return,  that  they  had  unanimously  invited  the  Duke,  and 
would  on  no  account  dismiss  him.  If,  as  Henry  said,  France 
had  joined  with  himself  against  Albany,  they  felt  little  obliged 
by  such  conduct.  But,  even  if  England,  France,  and  the 
Emperor  were  united,  they  had  chosen  the  Governor,  and 
with  the  Governor  they  were  resolved  to  live  and  die.^ 

It  was  impossible  to  mistake  the  meaning  of  this  declara- 
tion, or  to  expect  any  diversimi  in  the  King's  favour.  If  the 
King  had  believed  Dacre's  insinuation,  that  Albany  was  un- 
popular with  the  Lords,  that  he  and  his  preparations  might 
be  treated  with  contempt,  it  was  clear  from  Clarencieux's  letters 
that  Dacre  had  been  mistaken.  So  Henry  altered  his  tone, 
and  deemed  it  wise  to  prepare  for  the  worst.  He  sent  the 
Bishop  of  Carlisle  to  assist  Dacre  in  preparing  for  the  defence 
of  the  Borders,^  expressing  at  the  same  time  his  intentions  to 
despatch  some  nobleman  into  Yorkshire,  as  his  lieutenant, 
and  place  the  country  north  of  the  Trent  in  a  state  of  readi- 
ness. The  fortifications  of  Berwick  were  ordered  to  be 
strengthened  ;  the  Homes  were  apprised  that  they  would  be 
supported  in  their  disaffection,  and  a  sharp  watch  was  kept 
upon  the  motions  of  Albany.     Both  countries  prepared  for  war. 

But  in  reality  neither  desired  war.  Just  then  the  energies 
of  England  were  taxed  to  the  utmost  in  preparing  for  the 
invasion  of  France.  Every  day  the  Emperor  and  his  ministers 
were  calling  upon  England  to  give  proof  of  its  sincerity,  by  an 

1  in.  2054.  '  HI.  2075. 

voi>.  I.  2  m 


530  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   YHI.  [A.D. 

open  declaration  of  hostilities.  The  money  due  from  France 
for  the  surrender  of  Tournay  was  not  forthcoming ;  the 
treasury  was  exhausted  ;  the  loans,  in  spite  of  every  effort  to 
collect  them,  and  induce  prepayment,  came  in  slowly  and 
reluctantly.  Border  raids  might  he  made  and  conducted  at 
the  expense  of  the  Border  gentlemen  ;  but  they  were  uncertain 
and  ineffectual  instruments  for  retarding  the  advance  of  an 
army,  well  appointed  and  led  by  the  Scotch  lords,  thirsting  for 
retaliation.  On  the  other  hand,  Albany  was  fettered  by  his 
French  engagements.  He  could  not  hope  to  retain  his 
authority  unless  he  were  well  supported.  If  the  Scottish  lords 
found  the  men,  they  looked  to  Albany  to  find  the  money  and 
munitions  of  war.  But  Francis  was  too  hardly  pressed  to 
provide  either.  "  There  are  not  eighteen  barrels  of  gunpowder 
in  all  Scotland,"  writes  Dacre  to  Wolsey,  "  and  the  great 
Lords  will  have  no  war."  ^  And  though  Dacre's  information 
was  not  always  to  be  implicitly  relied  on,  yet  on  this  occasion 
his  assertion  was  confirmed  by  evidence  of  no  less  an  authority 
than  Albany  liimself.  In  a  letter  of  the  17th  of  April, ^  Albany 
tells  his  French  correspondent  that  the  Scotch  parliament  had 
been  dismissed  until  the  12th  of  May ;  and  in  tliat  time,  if 
they  did  not  obtain  a  favourable  answer  from  the  French  King, 
they  would  certainly  make  terms  with  England.  "  The  Scotch 
lords  say  that  the  war  is  merely  for  the  advantage  of  France, 
and  unless  the  king  of  France  will  issue  a  bold  declaration, 
and  send  sufficient  assistance,  they  do  not  care  to  stir,  as  they 
are  weary  of  fighting  for  others." 

Nor  was  this  far  from  the  truth.  The  chief  object  of 
Albany's  visit  to  Scotland  was  not  so  much  to  help  Scotland 
against  its  ancient  enemies,  to  secure  for  himself  either  the 
Scottish  crown,  or  the  hand  of  Margaret,  as  to  create  a  diver- 
sion, if  possible,  in  favour  of  France.  Francis  hoped  that 
England,  hampered  by  a  Scotch  invasion,  would  gladly  listen 
to  the  dictates  of  peace,  and  in  that  peace  France  would  be 
comprehended  as  the  ancient  ally  of  Scotland.  Nothing  shows 
more  completely  the  depth  of  humiliation  to  which  France 
was  reduced  at  the  commencement  of  1522  than  that  its 
monarch,  the  proudest  and  gayest  in  the  world,  the  competitor 
for  empire,  the  paragon  of  chivalry  and  haidte  courage,  should 
have  condescended  to  purchase  peace  at  such  a  price,  and  seek 
immunity  from  war,  by  the  hand  and  instrumentality  of  his 
humble  friend  and  Scotch  dependant.^     Failing  of  a  peace,  he 

1  III.  2122.  -  III.  2184.  3  See  III.  1950,  2113. 


1522.]  NEGOCIATIOXS   FOR   PEACE.  531 

might  yet  hope  to  divert  England  from  its  purpose  of  invading 
France,  or  divide  its  powers,  by  fomenting  an  insurrection  on 
its  northern  frontier.  Albany  was  disappointed  in  both 
designs.  His  proposals  for  a  truce,  in  which  France  should 
be  comprehended,  were  rejected  by  the  King  and  Wolsey  with 
the  utmost  disdain.  The  great  English  minister  penetrated  the 
flimsy  disguise  at  once,  and  treated  the  Duke's  overtures  with 
unconcealed  contempt.  He  regarded  Albany's  interference 
much  in  the  same  light  as  that  of  a  cur  interposing  itself 
between  "two  fell-opposed  opposites  "  with  a  folly  equalled 
only  by  its  presumption.^  By  short  prorogations  of  the  truce, 
devised  by  Dacre,  Albany's  preparations  were  frittered  away, 
and  he  fell  under  the  suspicions  of  the  French  King  in  conse- 
quence of  his  inaction. 

In  the  middle  of  May,  1522,^  the  aid  long  expected  from 
France  arrived,  but  it  was  wholly  inadequate  to  the  emergency. 
That  same  month  Francis  had  been  defied  by  England,  and 
he  was  no  longer  in  a  condition  to  provide  for  the  safety  of 
his  humble  ally.  Later  in  the  year  (x\ugust  13)  he  was 
under  the  necessity  of  sending  an  ambassador  to  Scotland  to 
explain  the  difficulties  of  his  own  position,  and  express  his 
regret  at  his  inability  to  render  further  assistance.  The  Scotch 
lords,  after  mam^  delays,  consented  at  last  to  an  invasion  of 
England  on  the  2nd  of  September.^  But  their  resolution  was 
formed  too  late.  Before  the  close  of  the  month  Albany  and 
Margaret  had  entered  into  negociations  for  peace  with  Dacre 
and  the  captain  of  Berwick.*  After  some  little  coquetting  on 
both  sides,  cessation  of  hostilities  was  agreed  upon ; — by 
Albany,  with  apparent  sincei'ity,  for,  from  some  reason  not 
well  ascertained,  he  thought  it  needful  to  return  to  the 
continent,  either  to  justify  himself  to  the  King  of  France,  or 
to  procure  additional  aid ; — by  Dacre,  from  policy,  to  win 
delay,  foment  suspicion  among  the  Lords,  create  confusion  in 
Scotland,  and  invade  it  when  disunited.  He  was  acquainted 
with  the  country  better  than  any  of  his  contemporaries  ;  was 
less  scrupulous  also  than  others  of  the  means  he  employed, 
whether  force  or  fraud.  But  in  consequence  of  these  very 
qualities  he  was  exposed  to  the  jealousy  and  dislike  of  all  who 
were  associated  with  him  ;  and  his  powers  of  annoyance  were 
crippled  in  projoortion. 

'  See  III.  1950.  '  TIT.  2428. 

2  III.  2271.  '  III.  2468-2170  and  2176. 


532 


THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH. 


[A.D. 


Unlmown  to  the  lords  of  Scotland,  the  negociations  between 
Albany  and  Dacre  were  carried  on  with  great  secrecy.     Under 
a  show  of  invading  England,  Albany  advanced  to  the  EngUsh 
borders/  in  the  direction  of  Carlisle.     Had  he  pushed  on  with 
vigour  he  might  have  dictated  his  own  terms  ;   for  Carlisle 
was  defenceless;  and  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  the  English 
commander,  was  still  at  York,  unable  to  advance  for  lack  of 
supplies.^     The  Borders  were  wholly  unprepared.     The  Earl 
of  Westmoreland  could  only  travel  in  a  litter.     Most  of  the 
chief  captains  were  dead ;  and  the  plague  had  raged  with  so 
much  severity  in  the  North  that  in  Durham  alone  3,000  able- 
bodied  men  had  been  carried  off  by  the  infection.     Through 
dread  of  its  virulence,  the  harness  in  the  infected  houses  was 
useless,  for  the  soldiers  refused  to  touch  it.      Besides,  as  was 
too  common  in  these  Border  wars,  no  spirit  of  unity  prevailed 
among  the   inhabitants   of    different   localities.      The   East 
IMarches  preyed  upon  the  West ;  the  West  on  the  East  and 
the   Middle   Marches.     Hosts   of  thieves,  lured  by  hope   of 
indiscriminate    plunder,   infested   the    markets,   robbed    the 
houses,  and  burned  the  mills,  indifferent  whether  they  belonged 
to  Scotland  or  England — or  rather,  preferring  those  of  the 
latter,  as  the  booty  was  richer  and  more  easily  taken.^     No 
treaty  had  been  signed.     The  English  reinforcements  had  not 
yet  arrived;  and  the  English  border  lords  hung  back,  declining 
to  stir  until  their  wages  were   paid.      Albany  moved  from 
Dumfries  to  Annan.     A  few  hours'  rapid  march  would  have 
brought  him  under  the  walls  of  Carlisle,  feebly  defended  by 
crumbling  ramparts  and  ditches,  and  insufficient  ordnance. 
But  Albany,  deficient  alike  in  judgment  and  resolution,  was 
engrossed  with  the  single  thought  of  truce.     He  suffered  him- 
self to  be  insulted  and  deceived  by  Dacre.     Nothing  shows 
more  clearly  the  characters  of  the  two  men  than  their  conduct 


>  ITT.  2523. 

^  Shrewsbury  to  Wolsey,  Septem- 
ber 8 ;  No.  2524. 

^  See  IIL  2531.  In  a  letter  to 
Wolsey,  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle  says, 
"  There  is  more  theft,  more  extortion 
here,  by  English  thieves,  than  there 
is  by  all  the  Scots  of  Scotland.  There 
is  no  man,  which  is  not  in  a  strong 
hold,  that  hath  or  may  have  any  cattle 
or  moveables  in  surety,  throughout 
the  bisliopric  (Durham) ;  and  from  the 
bishopric  till  we  come  within  eight 
miles  of  Carlisle ;  all  Northumberland 


likewise.  Hexhamshire,  which  be- 
longeth  to  your  Grace,  worst  of  all ; 
for  in  Hexham  self,  every  market  day, 
there  are  four  score  or  100  strong 
thieves  ;  and  the  poor  men  and  gentle- 
men see  them  which  did  rob  them  and 
their  goods,  and  dare  neither  com- 
plain of  them  by  name,  nor  say  one 
word  to  them.  They  take  all  their 
cattle  and  horses ;  their  corn  as  they 
carry  it  to  sow,  or  to  the  mill  to 
grind;  and  at  their  houses  bid  them 
deliver  what  they  will  have,  or  they 
shaU  be  fired  and  burnt."     No.  2328. 


1522.]  ALBANY'S   ADVANCE   TO   THE   BORDERS.  533 

and  corresponelence  on  tliis  occcasion.  Thongb  the  danger 
was  great  and  imminent,  Dacre  bated  not  a  jot  of  bis  baugbty 
and  imperious  demeanour.  Some  little  time  before,  in  defiance 
of  tbe  law  of  nations,  be  bad  imprisoned  Carrick,  Albanj^'s 
berald  ;  and  now,  witb  a  temerity  cbaracteristic  of  bis  nature, 
be  ventured  to  send  one  of  bis  own  servants,  without  a  safe- 
conduct,  into  tbe  midst  of  Albany's  camp,  nominally  under 
the  j)retext  of  carrying  a  message,  really  to  ascertain  tbe  con- 
dition of  Albany's  powers.  Such  acts  of  audacity  very  few 
commanders,  even  of  less  rank  and  authority  than  Albany, 
would  have  allowed  to  pass  without  reprisals.  But  Albany, 
after  a  faint  remonstrance,  suffered  bis  indignation  to  evaporate 
in  words,  and  passed  over  tbe  insult  only  to  encourage  its 
rejDetition. 

Tbe  9th  of  September  bad  arrived,  and  Dacre  was  under 
tbe  necessity  of  returning  an  immediate  answer  to  Albany's 
proposals.  He  was  then  staying  at  Carlisle.  Tbe  distance 
between  himself  and  the  Duke  was  so  short  that  it  was  difficult 
to  find  any  pretext  for  further  delay.  A  direct  refusal  of 
Albany's  terms  would  have  brought  the  Duke  and  his  army  in 
a  few  hours  to  the  walls  of  Carlisle  ;  compliance  was  tbe  same 
as  accepting  Albany's  demand ; — besides  Dacre  had  as  yet 
received  no  communications  from  England.  To  protract  the 
time,^  be  pretended  to  the  messenger  who  brought  the  Duke's 
letter  with  a  French  superscription,  that  be  did  not  under- 
stand that  language  and  sent  him  back  to  procure  a  Scotch 
translation  of  it,  or  bring  with  him  a  French  interpreter. 

Albany,  with  singular  fatuity,  allowed  bis  opportunities 
to  slip  from  his  band.  On  the  11th  of  September  he  signed 
an  agreement  with  Dacre  at  Solam  Chapel  for  an  abstinence 
of  one  month ;  thus  dissipating  the  hopes  of  his  own  party, 
and  allowing  bis  ememies  abundant  time  for  preparation.  His 
chief  resources  were  at  Edinburgh  ;  his  ships  at  Leitb.  He 
could  only  procure  scanty,  supplies  by  sea  from  Dumbarton,  or 
transport  provisions  and  munitions  of  war  by  land,  over  the 
roughest  ground,  now  rapidly  becoming  impassable  at  the 
approach  of  winter  ;  whilst  the  English  fleet,  commanding  the 
eastern  shores  from  Newcastle  to  Berwick,  and  the  western 
from  Chester  to  Carlisle,  needed  only  time  to  assemble  its 
powers,  and  bad  war  or  peace  at  its  option. 

Dacre  might  well  be  proud  of  bis  victory — for  a  victory  it 
was — gained  at  a  small  cost,  in  the  face  of  great  odds,  solely 

'  Sec  III.  2525. 


5o4  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENEY   VIII.  [A.D. 

by  his  own  daring  and  skill.  His  own  account  of  the  matter, 
sent  in  a  letter  to  Wolsey  the  day  after/  displays  in  vivid 
colours  the  boldness  and  genius  of  the  man. 

"  My  lord,  I  beseech  your  Grace  of  pardon  that  I  have  not  advertised 
you  from  time  to  time,  according  to  my  duty  ;  but  the  matters  were  so 
difficult,  and  of  so  great  importance,  and  had  so  long  tract  of  time  and 
times,  that  I  could  not  certify  yoiu'  Grace  of  anything  till  now  of  the  con- 
clusion, like  as  ye  may  perceive,  as  everything  is  passed  between  the 
queen  of  Scots,  the  duke  of  Albany,  and  me,  by  their  jwincipal  letters  and 
mine  answers  again,  enclosed  in  a  packet,  which  your  Grace  shall  receive 
herewith. 

"  Please  it  your  Grace,  according  to  my  writing  sent  you  from  Norham, 
the  duke  of  Albany  with  the  main  power  of  Scotland  mustered  a  little 
from  Edinburgh,  the  second  day  of  this  instant  month  of  September,  and 
so  came  forward,  sending  the  earl  of  Arran  his  lieutenant  with  his  vanward 
to  the  East  Borders,  who  set  up  his  tents  a  little  from  Home  Castle  in  our 
sight,  being  within  four  miles  of  Warkes  Castle  ;  and  from  thence  the  said 
Lieutenant  removed  towards  these  We[st]  Borders,  and  fell  in  company 
of  the  Duke,  at  which  time  I  was  in  Berwick,  where  I  put  in  250  soldiers 
of  the  King's  garrisons,  and  also  300  of  the  country,  and  for  the  same 
made  precision  of  victual  for  their  sustentation  ;  and  by  reason  of  the  said 
victual  all  corns  kept  the  old  price,  and  rose  nothing  ;  and  I,  knowe[ing] 
of  the  hasty  return  of  the  said  Duke,  discharged  the  crew  of  the  country 
wh[ich]  was  taken  in,  and  paid  them  wages  for  a  day  ;  and  thereupon  I 
rode  from  Berwick  to  these  West  Borders  at  post,  and  came  hither  upon 
Saturday  last  past ;  where,  according  to  my  said  writing  from  Norham, 
there  was  neither  gun,  b[ow]  or  arrow  in  readiness,  and  the  town 
assaultable,  whereby  there  was  no  remedy  for  keeping  of  the  same,  but 
only  strength  of  men  ;  by  reason  whereof  I  was  .  .  .  enforced  to  despoil 
all  mine  own  houses  of  such  ordnance  as  was  in  them,  and  brought  it 
thither,  and  appointed  and  put  in  the  town  1,600  men  in  wages,  besides 
the  inhabitants  of  the  same,  making  my  son  captain  thereof,  which  was  to 
his  great  danger,  and  to  me  little  comfort,  remembering  I  have  but  one. 
Albeit,  for  the  King's  honor,  and  for  surety  of  his  castle  and  town,  I  could 
[no]  less  do,  seeing  I  and  my  brother  Sir  Christopher  might  not  be  spared 
from  the  f[ield],  my  lord  Lieutenant  being  absent,  whose  wages  I  have 
paid  hithertowards  at  the  King's  pleasure. 

"Upon  Sunday  the  seventh  day,  the  duke  of  Albany  with  his  army 
and  ordnance  came  to  the  castle  of  Milke,  within  12  miles  of  this  said  city  ; 
and  by  such  w[ords]  as  passed  between  the  said  Duke  and  me,  sent  unto 
your  Grace  in  tl^e  aforesaid  p[acket],  your  Grace  may  perceive  the  time 
was  tracted  unto  Wednesday  at  11  of  the  clock,  when  as  the  said  Duke  set 
up  his  tents  ujion  the  Debateable  Ground  five  miles  of  this  said  city,  where 
I  came  unto  his  presence  on  Thursday,  [having]  certain  hostages  delivered 
for  me  into  England,  that  is  to  say,  the  lord  Max  [well]  and  the  treasurer 
of  Scotland. 

"  At  my  going  towards  the  said  Duke,  half  a  mile  from  him  where  he 
lay,  two  earls  of  Scotland  met  me,  and  conveyed  me  unto  his  hall,  whereas 
he  and  all  the  lords  were  about  him  ;  and  after  my  duty  done  unto  him,  I 
removed  something  backward,  saying  with  an  high  voice,  '  My  lord,  what 
displeasure  has  my  Sovereign  done  unto  you,  that  ye  with  this  great  army 
are  come  hither  to  invade  his  realm  ?  marvelling  that  all  ye  my  lords  will 
be  aiding  to  the  same,  remembering  the  nighness  and  proximity  of  blood 
betwixt  my  Sovereign  and  yours.  I  come  hither  for  no  treaty,  but  at  the 
instance  and  desire  of  my  lord  here  present.'    Whereupon  the  Duke,  with 

'  III.  2536. 


1522.]  DACEE'S   LETTER  TO   WOLSEY.  535 

certain  of  the  lords,  went  into  one  chamber  within  his  said  hall,  and  took 
me  with  them  ;  where,  after  long  reasoning,  communication,  and  debating, 
A\-ith  such  persuasions  and  sharp  words  as  I  did  give  tliem,  the  earls  of 
Huntley,  Argyle,  Arran,  and  others,  fearing  as  well  the  King's  army,  as 
also  the  continuance  of  mortal  war  which  would  have  followed  upon  their 
beginning,  gave  plain  answer  that  for  no  love,  favor,  desire,  or  fair  promise 
of  the  French  king  they  would  in  no  wise  attempt  war  against  England, 
nor  invade  the  same,  so  they  might  be  sure  to  have  peace  of  the  King's 
higluiess.  And  so  I  departed,  and  was  brought  to  one  other  tent  ; 
whereas  I  had  good  cheer  made  by  certain  lords  appointed,  and  there  fell 
to  communication  and  reasoning  how  the  matter  miglit  be  best  brought  to 
pass.  Whereupon  indentures  were  drawn  ;  whereof  the  one  part,  signed 
and  sealed,  ye  shall  receive  in  the  foresaid  jjacket. 

"My  lord,  the  army  of  Scotland  was  of  so  great  puissance  of  men, 
above  the  number  of  4  score  thousand,  and  victual  for  the  same,  and  so 
well  stored  of  artillery,  above  45  jjieces  of  brass  and  1,000  hagbushes 
carted  ui^on  trestles,  besides  handguns  innumerable,  that  in  manner,  God 
being  indiflerent,  it  had  been  impossible  to  have  withstood  them  ;  like  as 
Thomas  Musgrave,  the  King's  servant,  being  there  present  with  me,  will 
inform  the  King's  highness  and  your  Grace  at  length,  whicli  comes  up 
with  diligence  for  that  purpose.  For  I  assure  your  Grace,  our  power  in 
the  time  could  not  have  been  16,000,  and  those  that  came  forward  came 
with  the  worst  will  that  ever  did  men,  and  some  great  men  there  is  that 
would  not  come  forward,  worthy  punishment  ;  and  tlierefore,  seeing  the 
imminent  danger  of  the  castle  of  Warke,  which  William  Ellerker,  captain 
of  the  same,  having  100  men  in  his  retinue,  after  the  sight  of  the  Duke's 
vanward  and  tents  set  uj),  left  waste  ;  and  so  of  force  I  was  driven  to 
sufter  the  Grayes  of  Northumberland,  by  the  advice  of  my  lord  Warden, 
[to]  enter  in  the  same  castle  for  keeping  of  it ;  and  also  remembering  the 
small  power  that  we  were  here,  and  the  weakness  of  this  city,  wanting 
ordnance,  which  by  all  likelihood  could  not  have  been  kept,  afore  I  had 
seen  and  viewed  their  puissance  and  artillery,  and  over  that  for  safeguard 
of  this  whole  country  of  Cumberland,  which  all  utterly  had  been  destroyed 
and  burnt  without  remedy  hereafter,  if  the  foresaid  army  had  come  in  it  : 
— therefore  I  condescended  to  the  said  minute  of  abstinence,  humbly 
beseeching  your  Grace  to  be  good  solicitor  and  mean  for  me  unto  the 
King's  higlmess,  that  he  take  no  displeasure  with  me,  being  so  bold  to 
take  abstinence,  having  none  authority  or  commission.  But  inasmuch  as 
by  means  thereof  their  army  are  skaled,  and  that  they  foliously  have 
taken  alistinence  with  me  that  had  none  autliority,  but  only  by  my  words, 
saying  that  I  had  commission,  which  I  could  not  at  that  time  come  to  it, 
it  is  at  the  King's  pleasure  whether  he  will  accept  it  or  not  ;  and,  under 
your  correction,  I  think  it  good  that  this  month  be  accepted,  and  upon  the 
queen  of  Scots'  desire,  which  it  is  thought  she  will  make,  that  the  King's 
highness  condescend  to  the  same  abstinence  for  the  space  of  anotlicr 
month,  for  these  considerations  ensuing  :  first,  that  in  that  time  an 
honorable  ambassade  may  be  sent  up  upon  the  safeconduct  now  granted, 
at  the  request  of  the  said  queen  of  Scots,  which  shall  make  a  great  division 
between  the  Duke  and  tlie  lords  of  Scotland,  remembering  their  former 
sayings  to  the  said  Duke  afore  me  ;  and  further  they  have  ottered  me  they 
are  glad  and  willing  to  desire  peace  of  the  King's  highness  and  to  y  .  .  .  no 
meddling  with  France,  and  for  surety  thereof  to  make  bands  or  lie  such 
hostages  as  reasonably  sliall  be  thought,  and  so  tlie  continuance  of  the 
duke  of  Albany  in  Scotland  shall  be  neither  profit  nor  pleasure  to  the 
French  king. 

"  And  for  the  sure  custody  of  the  king  of  Scots,  out  of  the  susjjicious 
keeping  of  the  said  Duke,  so  that  he  be  in  the  keeping  of  Scotclimen,  true 
Scotch  lords,  they  can  be  contented,  upon  communication  at  the  up  coming 
of  the  ambassadors,  as  shall  be  devised. 


536  THE   KEIGN   OF  HENRY  VIII.  [A.D. 

*'  And  if  the  King's  highness  be  not  content  with  these  ways,  then  his 
Highness  ni[ust]  see  money  sent  down  for  payment  of  his  garrison's  wages 
for  the  next  montli,  [wliicli]  lieginneth  in  the  hinder  end  of  this  month, 
amounting  to  the  sum  of  6001. ,  like  as  it  d[oth]  appear  in  the  foot  of  the 
declaration  in  the  keeping  of  Sir  John  Darcy,  knt.  ;  a[nd  if]  he  say  that 
he  lias  not  the  said  declaration,  then  it  is  in  the  keeping  of  W[m.] 
Hasilwodd. 

' '  My  Lord,  inasmuch  as  it  is  determined  that  at  the  end  of  the  next 
month  my  lord  Percy  for  the  East  and  Middle  Marches,  and  I  for  the 
West  IMarches,  shall  take  the  charge  of  them,  it  shall  be  more  honor  to 
the  King  that  the  garrison  be  discharged  rat[her]  in  the  time  of  this 
abstinence  than  when  it  is  plain  war. 

"  And  as  for  the  castle  of  Warke,  which  stands  in  great  danger,  as  is 
afore  specified,  and  the  same  being  furnished  with  men  and  ordnance  may 
do  more  annoyance  [to]  the  Scots  than  Berwick,  and  in  mine  oi'>inion 
there  can  no  gun  go  through  the  wall  of  it  ;  therefore  I  think  it  good  that 
Master  Hert,  who  is  now  with  the  lord  of  Shx'ewsbury,  be  commanded  to 
come  in  these  quarters  hastily  to  see  and  view  as  well  Berwick,  Warke, 
and  this  city  of  Carlisle,  as  also  all  along  the  marches,  whei*e  I  shall  bear 
him  company,  to  the  intent  that  he  and  I  may  make  certificate  to  the 
King's  highness  and  your  Grace  now  at  Michaelmas  term,  the  order,  form, 
and  manner  of  everything  at  length,  with  our  opinions  on  the  same,  what 
is  best  to  be  done  ;  for  2U6-.  spended  in  time  with  provision  shall  go  as  far, 
as  well  in  works  as  in  victuals,  as  shall  40s.  in  the  time  of  a  necessity 
when  thing  must  needs  be  done. 

"If  my  lord  Lieutenant  had  come  forward,  he  should  have  been 
deceived  of  such  ordnance  as  is  in  Berwick,  that  was  appointed  for  the 
field  ;  for  when  I  had  caused  all  the  same  ordnance  to  be  put  in  areadiness, 
and  for  the  exi^edition  and  receiving  of  the  same  sent  mine  own  cart  wheels 
to  Berwick,  the  captain  would  not  sufier  tlie  same  ordnance  to  be  taken 
out  of  the  town,  notwithstanding  that  I  showed  unto  him  the  article  in  the 
King's  instructions  containing  his  high  pleasure  anenst  the  same,  but  by 
his  writing  ready  to  be  showed  he  gave  answer  that  he  could  depart  with 
none,  but  only  a  slange  of  iron,  a  sacre  and  two  falcons.  And  the  Blessed 
Trinity  preserve  your  Grace.  At  Carlisle,  the  12th  day  of  September,  at 
four  of  the  clock  in  the  morning. 

' '  Yours  with  his  service, 

"Thomas  Dacre." 

-^  On  communicating  the  news  to  the  King,  the  Cardinal 
broke  out  into  expressions  of  admiration  foreign  to  his  usual 
habits.  He  perceived  at  once  the  greatness  of  the  advantages 
thus  gained,  and  the  total  extinction  of  that  danger  which 
had  threatened  at  one  time  to  defeat  the  measures  on  which 
his  thoughts  and  energies  had  been  concentrated  for  the  last 
two  years.  Such  a  signal  success  was  nothing  less  than 
a  stroke  from  Heaven ;  operatio  dextrse  Excelsi,  as  he  termed 
it.^  Yet  the  precedent  was  dangerous.  Dacre  had  acted 
entirely  on  his  own  responsibility.  Shrewsbury,  when  the 
news  arrived,  had  disbanded  his  army  without  waiting  for 
orders,  and  had  retired  sick  and  weary  to  his  home.  The 
fault  was  a  noble  one ;  fortunate  in  its  results,  but  a  fault 

'  III.  2537. 


1522.1  DACRE'S   EXCUSE   ADMITTED.  537 

still— felix  culpa ;  and  as  Henry,  jealous  of  the  least  neglect, 
and  severe  in  punishing  the  slightest  contempt  of  his  authority, 
might  not  regard  it  in  a  favourahle  Hght,  the  Cardinal,  ^Yith 
great  skill  and  judgment,  endeavoured  to  anticipate  and  dis- 
arm his  resentment.  After  expatiating  on  the  loss  it  would 
be  to  the  French  King,  who  reckoned  that  this  invasion  of 
Scotland  would  "  stand  him  in  stead  of  a  great  army,"  he 
thus  proceeds  :  "  Albeit,  Sir,  this  abstinence  of  war  was 
suddenly  taken  and  agreed  unto  without  your  authority  or 
pleasure  known,  yet  I  cannot  but  see  it  is  to  be  accounted  as 
felix  culpa,  and  that,  your  Grace  being  therewith  contented, 
and  taking  respect  to  the  state  of  your  affairs  northwards, 
many  good  effects  may  thereof  ensue  ;  and  at  the  least  I  see 
no  other  remedy  but  that  ye  must  take  all  that  is  done  in 
good  part,  making  virtue  of  necessity.  Howbeit,  to  be  plain, 
there  hath  been  too  much  boldness  on  your  folks'  part,  as  well 
in  taking  truce  and  discharging  your  army  without  your 
knowledge,  as  in  the  Duke  of  Albany  great  folly  in  dissolving 
so  great  an  army,  so  sumptuously  set  forth  and  advanced, 
without  doing  any  manner  act  or  exploit,  upon  a  bare 
abstinence  of  war,  concluded  without  any  commission  or 
authority.  Nevertheless,  the  cause  of  the  premises,  as  may 
be  conjectured,  hath  only  been,  quia  trcpidaverunt  timore  uhi 
non  erat  timor." 

The  King  appears  to  have  adopted  this  sensible  advice  of 
his  minister ;  for,  not  long  after,  Dacre  acknowledged  a  letter 
of  thanks  received  from  the  King  for  the  services  he  had 
rendered  on  this  occasion.^ 

Disbanding  his  army,  Albany  repaired  to  Edinburgh, 
vainly  endeavouring,  in  conjunction  with  Margaret,  to  have 
France  comprehended  in  the  truce.  If  at  the  head  of  a  power- 
ful army  the  Duke  was  unable  to  carry  his  point,  it  was  not 
to  be  expected  that  Dacre  or  Wolsey  would  listen  for  a  moment 
to  a  disagreeable  jiroposal,  backed  simply  by  wishes  or  threats. 
After  a  few  ineffectual  efforts,  made  probably  with  a  view  of 
excusing  his  inability  and  mismanagement  to  Francis  I.,  he 
abandoned  the  attempt.  On  the  23rd  of  October  the  Duke 
left  Edinburgh  for  Stirling,  appointing  as  regents  certain 
bishops  and  lords  devoted  to  his  interests,  and  sailed  for 
France  from  Dumbarton,  on  Monday,  the  27th  of  October, 
promising  to  return  before  Assumption  Day  (August  15),  or 
resign  his  authority.^ 

'  October  7  ;  III.  2598.  *  III.  2G45. 


538  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

Scotcli  historians  are  at  a  loss  to  discover  an  adequate 
cause  for  so  ignoble  a  termination  of  Albany's  campaign.  At 
no  time  in  their  history,  with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  the 
battle  of  Flodden,  had  the  Scots  been  able  to  bring  a  more 
numerous  or  better  appointed  army  into  the  field  ;  at  no  time 
had  a  more  favourable  opportunity  presented  itself  for  striking 
a  blow  at  their  ancient  enemies  with  such  disastrous  effect. 
The  English  were  not  only  unprepared,  but  the  largest  body 
which  Shrewsbury  had  proposed  to  detach  from  his  main 
army  to  meet  the  Scots  consisted  of  no  more  than  20,000 
men.  Actuated  by  a  narrow  spirit  of  self-interest  and  self- 
defence,  unwilling  to  stir  from  their  own  country,  and  leave 
their  homes  exposed  to  the  enemy,  the  Border  chiefs,  disunited 
among  themselves,  delayed  to  march  to  the  assistance  of 
Dacre.  Yet  it  seems  unjust  to  attribute  exclusively  to  the 
incapacity  and  cowardice  of  Albany  an  inglorious  truce,  to 
which  the  lords  of  Scotland  were  no  less  a  i^arty  than  him- 
self. Of  disunion  in  their  councils,  we  have  no  contemporary 
evidence.  The  only  explanation  probable  is  to  be  found  in 
the  want  of  adequate  support  from  France.^  It  appears  to 
me  that  Albany  never  intended,  from  the  very  first,  to  venture 
a  battle.  Under  pretence  of  menacing  the  Borders,  he  was 
covering  his  design  of  negociating  with  Dacre.  By  an  assump- 
tion of  warlike  demonstrations  he  saved  his  credit  with  the 
majority  of  his  adherents  ;  perhaps,  also,  the  number  and 
efficiency  of  his  preparations  were  exaggerated  by  Dacre,  from 
whose  letters  the  account  of  them  is  exclusively  derived.  Or, 
after  all,  he  might  have  been  acting  on  the  French  maxim, 
reculer  imur  mieux  sauter. 

But,  whatever  might  be  the  cause,  the  policy  of  Albany 
was  fatal  to  his  party  and  his  influence.  His  adherents, 
deprived  of  their  chief,  were  more  liable  to  fall  a  prey  to  the 
intrigues  of  the  English  government.  It  was  no  longer 
difficult,  by  flattery  and  fair  promises,  to  detach  Margaret 
from  the  Duke,  to  inspire  her  with  the  intoxicating  thought 
that  through  her  influence  alone  England  had  been  induced 

*  This  is  the  statement  of  Sir  lately  returned  to  Francis  to  show 
Thomas  Boleyn ;  but  he  was  then  at  him  the  state  of  Scotland,  provide 
Yalladolid  with  the  Emperor,  and  money,  captains,  and  ships,  and  re- 
might  speak  from  hearsay  only.  See  turn  to  Scotland  in  the  spring.  He 
III.  2697.  Perhaps  Wolsey's  state.  adds,  that,  at  the  Duke's  instigation, 
ment  is  nearer  the  truth  than  any  the  Scotch  lords  had  failed  to  fulfil 
other  yet  offered.  He  tells  Boleyn  their  engagement  of  sending  ambas- 
and  Sampson,  at  that  time  ambas-  sadors  into  England  to  treat  lor  peace, 
sadors    in    Spain,    that    Albany   had  No.  2764. 


1522.]  EFFECTS   OF   ALBANY'S  WITHDKAWAL.  539 

to  make  its  late  concessions  to  Albany,  and  -svould  be  guided 
exclusivel}'  in  its  conduct  towards  Scotland  by  her  wishes  and 
her  instructions.  It  was  easy  for  Dacre  to  insinuate  that 
Albany's  presence  in  Scotland  was  the  only  obstacle  to  the 
suj)remacy  she  coveted  so  long  and  so  earnestly.  His  banish- 
ment, she  was  taught  to  believe,  would  free  her  from  designs 
which,  com'teous  in  appearance,  were  intended  in  reality  to 
deprive  her  of  all  authority,  and  render  her  dependent  on 
a  party  unfavourable  alike  to  herself  and  her  son.  The  design 
succeeded ;  and  from  this  period  Margaret's  letters  betray, 
not  only  a  change  in  her  sentiments  towards  Albany,  but  a 
quivering,  restless  anxiety  to  impress  upon  the  Scotch  a  due 
sense  of  that  imjjortance  which  she  wished  to  possess,  and 
always  failed  to  achieve.  It  is  amusing  to  watch  her  incessant 
efforts  to  invest  herself  with  a  factitious  dignity  in  the  eyes  of 
her  people,  and  make  them  believe  that  she  w^as  omnipotent 
with  her  powerful  brother.  She  repeatedly  urges  upon  him, 
in  her  correspondence,  and  at  this  time  more  frequently  than 
ever,  the  necessity  of  letting  it  be  known  that  his  friendship 
or  hostility  to  Scotland  would  be  determined  by  her  advice 
and  her  wishes.  She  aimed  at  being  the  sole  mediator 
between  the  two  countries.  By  her  powerful  intercession 
alone,  the  sword  was  to  be  sheathed  or  resumed. 

But  whilst  Dacre  and  Wolsey  together  assiduously  pursued 
this  Hne  of  policy  towards  the  Queen,  the  Cardinal  was  pre- 
paring measures  for  isolating  Scotland  completely  from  all 
hope  of  foreign  aid,  and  gathering  up  the  undivided  power  of 
England,  to  launch  it  with  full  and  irresistible  effect  against 
its  pertinacious  foe.  The  mistakes  in  the  last  year's  campaign, 
fortunate  as  it  had  proved  to  England  from  the  folly  and 
incapacity  of  Albany,  had  opened  Wolsey's  eyes  to  the  danger 
of  undertaking  two  great  w^ars  at  the  same  time.  He  had 
been  taught  the  necessity  of  providing  a  more  efficient  force 
than  the  hasty  and  reluctant  levies  of  the  orders  ;  he  had  seen 
the  folly  of  diminishing  the  efficiency  of  those  forces  by  want 
of  promptitude  in  the  payment  of  their  wages  or  provision  of 
arms  and  ammunition.  In  the  previous  year  he  had  evidently 
underrated  the  strength,  activity,  and  importance  of  his 
adversary.  He  had  never  supposed  that  Albany  would  have 
advanced  with  an  army  so  large  and  so  well  appointed  to  the 
very  walls  of  Carlisle  and  Berwick.  Wisely  calculating  the 
magnitude  of  the  danger  he  had  so  providentially  escaped, 
he  resolved  never  again  to  run  the  same  hazard,  or  trust  to 


O40  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

a  similar  caprice  of  fortune.  Instead  of  the  sickly  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  he  pitched  upon  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  who  had 
been  engaged  since  1522  in  scouring  the  Channel,  and  making 
descents  on*  the  French  coasts.  There  could  be  no  fitter 
general  than  Surrey  to  take  the  command  of  the  forces 
against  Scotland,  for  Surrey  had  seen  service  in  various  forms 
and  in  different  countries.  By  his  influence  in  the  North,  by 
his  high  rank  and  family  connections,  he  was  able  to  exact 
from  the  turbulent  gentlemen  and  noblemen  of  the  Borders 
that  obedience  and  respect  they  refused  to  yield  to  one  chosen 
from  among  themselves,  whatever  his  merits  or  his  abilities : 
whilst  long  experience  of  office,  unblemished  reputation  as 
a  soldier,  and  the  share  he  had  in  the  victory  at  Flodden, 
seemed  to  point  out  Surrey  as  qualified  above  all  others  for  so 
important  and  hazardous  an  employment. 

In  the  choice  of  such  a  general  Wolsey  showed  that  he  did 
not  underrate  the  magnitude  and  importance  of  the  struggle. 
It  was  the  clearest  and  most  convincing  evidence  of  the  valour 
of  his  opponents,  and  of  the  resistance  he  expected  from  them. 
Nor  was  this  all.  An  enemy  so  resolute  as  the  Scotch,  and 
animated  against  England  by  the  strongest  national  aversion, 
demanded  his  undivided  energies.  But  how  could  this  object 
be  obtained  ?  How,  with  a  great  continental  war  upon  his 
hands,  could  he  strike  so  effectual  a  blow  against  the  power  of 
the  Scotch,  that  they  should  never  trouble  him  again  ?  For- . 
tunately  the  vacillation  of  the  Emperor  furnished  him  with 
the  desired  opportunit}'.  From  weariness  of  the  war  or  a 
desire  to  enhance  his  own  importance  in  the  eyes  of  his  ally, 
Charles,  at  the  close  of  1522,  had  desired  his  ambassadors  in 
England  to  communicate  to  Wolsey  a  copy  of  certain  overtures 
for  a  truce  which  had  been  submitted  to  him  by  the  King  of 
France.^     Without  caring  to  ascertain  how  far  the  offer  was 

*  With  the  usual  duplicity  charac-  secrecy,  telling  him  that  neither  the 

teristic   of  his  policy,   the   Emperor  ambassadors  of  the  King  of  England 

had   already  made   some  progress   in  nor  those  of  France  must  be  allowed 

this  business,  before  he  thought  fit  to  to  suspect  the  existence  of  any  such 

communicate    it   to    England.      In    a  intention  on  his  part.    Though  he  was 

letter  addressed  by  him  to  the  Duke  even    then   preparing   to    falsify    his 

of  Sessa,  on  the  15th  of  Feb.  1525,  he  obligations,    he  does  not  hesitate  to 

desired  his  ambassador  to  inform  the  avow  that   he  was   restricted  by  his 

Pope  that  he  was  neglecting  no  op-  treaty   with    England   from   entering 

portunity  of  effecting  a  truce  with  the  upon  any  negociations  for  peace  witti 

King  of  France;  and  he  had,  there-  France  without  fii-st  obtaining  Henry's 

fore,  sent  very  ample  powers  to  his  consent ;  and  he  admits  that  it  would 

ambassadors  at  the  court  of  Kome,  for  not  redound  much  to  his  honour,  if  it 

that  purpose.     At  the  same  time,  he  were    known    that   he  had    been   the 

enjoined    on    the   Duke    the    utmost  first  to  solicit  peace,  seeing  that  the 


1523.]  WOLSEY'S  POLICY   TOUCHING  FRANCE.  541 

sincere,  Wolsey  perceived  his  advantage  in  it.  As  the  King 
of  France  had  endeavoured  to  extort  a  truce  out  of  the 
supposed  necessities  of  Enghxnd  by  means  of  the  Duke  of 
Albany,  might  not  his  own  policy  be  turned  upon  the  inventor  ? 
Might  not  France  be  induced,  in  consequence  of  its  difficulties, 
to  purchase  peace  at  the  sacrifice  of  its  confederate  ?  If  the 
negociation  succeeded,  and  Francis,  forgetful  of  his  honour, 
should  consent  to  a  truce  without  comprehending  Scotland, 
then  would  Scotland  be  left  to  the  undivided  power  and 
vengeance  of  England ;  if  it  failed,  yet  the  discussion  of  such 
a  proposition  would  create  suspicion  in  the  mind  of  the  Scots, 
as  if  the  French  King  valued  their  alliance  only  for  his  own 
purposes.  Accordingly  Wolsey  instructed  the  English  ambas- 
sadors at  Valladolid  to  represent  to  the  Emperor,  that  a 
"  better  and  more  politic  mean  "  could  not  be  imagined  for 
avoiding  superfluous  charges — especially  as  the  Emperor  found 
so  much  difficulty  in  making  the  necessary  preparations — than 
to  condescend  to  a  truce  with  the  King  of  France  for  this 
year  ;  "  the  same  to  be  no  other  "  than  a  mere  cessation  and 
desisting  from  hostility,  not  comprehending  the  realm  of  Scot- 
land. If,  however,  the  truce  could  not  be  had  without  the 
comprehension  of  Scotland,  the  King  hoped,  he  said,  "so 
speedily  to  advance  "  his  enterprises  on  this  side,  that  the 
stroke  should  be  struck  before  the  treaty  was  concluded. 

To  obviate  unfavourable  conjectures,  if  it  should  be 
imagined  that  such  a  wish  had  emanated  from  the  King  or 
from  the  Emperor,  Wolsey  took  the  precaution  of  writing  to 
the  Pope ;  suggesting  that  his  Holiness,  who  was  anxious  for 
the  peace  of  Christendom,  should,  as  of  himself,  malce  the 
necessary  proposition  to  the  three  powers.     To  quicken  the 

King  of  France  had  been  the  aggressor.  examples,  did  not  wait  for  the  consent 

The  articles  to  which  he  refers  were  of    his    English    ally,    but    took    the 

solemnly  sworn  before  Wolsey  at  the  initiative  without  it,  consulting  oidy 

treaty  of  Windsor  in  June,  1522.  his  own  interests  and  his  own  incliua- 

We    are    informed   by   the    same  tions.     See  the  letter  in  Mr.  Bergen- 

letter  that  the  Emperor  had  already  roth's  Calendar,  vol.  ii.  p.  528. 

sent    a    copy   of    similar    powers    to  Mr.    Bergenroth,    in    alluding    to 

England,  desiring  they  might  be  for-  these  circumstances,  accuses  Wolsey 

■warded  to  Rome  in  the  event  of  their  of     dissimulation.       He    thinks     the 

proving  satisfactory  to  Henry.  Wolsey,  Cardinal  blew  hot  or  cold,  as  suited 

in  lieu  of  them,  proposed  a  truce  for  his  own  interests.    He  does  nob  appear 

one  year  only  between  the  Emperor  to  see  that  the  policy  of  Wolsey  was 

and  the  Kings  of  France  and  England,  of  necessity  shaped  by  the  niovomonts 

excluding  their  confederates ;  aiming,  of   Albany,    and   the    vacilhitions   of 

of    course,    at   the    Scots.      But   the  Charles   V.      As   they   shifted   tlieir 

Emperor,  disregarding  his  most  solemn  ground,     Wolsey    was    compelled    to 

engagements,  with  that  flexibility  of  change  his  attitude, 
which  these  papers  furnish  numerous 


542  THE   EEIGN   OF   PIENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

sluggish  resolves  of  the  Emperor,  he  was  given  clearly  to 
understand  that,  in  the  event  of  the  war  being  continued,  he 
would  be  expected  to  furnish  his  stipulated  quota  of  men  and 
money ;  and  these  Wolsey  well  knew  that  Charles  would  be 
unwilling  or  unable  to  provide.  He  was  to  be  further  informed 
that  he  must  not  expect  any  extra  aid  from  England,  as  it 
was  now  so  busily  occupied  at  home.  This  is  the  key  of 
Wolsey's  policy  towards  Scotland  ;  and  this  is  the  meaning 
of  that  desire  of  his  for  a  temporary  truce  with  France,  which 
otherwise  seems  inexplicable. 

It  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  such  an  arrangement 
would  be  accepted  by  the  Emperor  or  his  council,  indifferent 
to  any  interests  except  their  own.  It  was  more  important,  as 
it  was  more  agreeable,  to  them,  to  have  the  war  carried  on  by 
England  against  France,  of  which  they  should  reap  the  fruits, 
than  that  the  powers  and  resources  of  England  should  be 
expended  in  an  expedition  against  Scotland,  from  which  they 
had  nothing  to  fear.  In  a  long  memorial  addressed  to  his 
ambassadors,  the  Emperor  endeavoured  to  combat  this  new 
proposal  of  the  Cardinal's.  He  contended  for  the  importance 
of  combined  and  energetic  operations  against  France  now, 
when  that  kingdom  was  entangled  in  so  many  difficulties. 
He  was  willing,  he  said,  to  render  assistance,  if  Henry  would 
carry  the  war  into  Guienne,  and  he  had  collected  for  that 
purpose  a  million  and  a  half  of  ducats.  But  the  promises  of 
Charles  never  corresponded  to  his  performances,  and  Wolsey 
was  too  well  aware  of  the  value  of  his  offers  to  depart  from 
the  measures  he  had  resolved  to  adopt. 

By  Dacre's  arrangement,  the  truce  with  Scotland  had  been 
prorogued  from  month  to  month  only,  and  the  last  prorogation 
had  expired.  The  option  of  extending  it  remained  with  Eng- 
land ;  the  lords  of  Scotland  desired  a  further  prorogation  ; 
but  Wolsey  had  other  intentions.  On  February  the  26th,  the 
Earl  of  Surrey  was  appointed  lieutenant-general  of  the  army 
against  Scotland,  and  commissions  for  musters  were  sent  into 
all  the  northern  counties.^ 

The  Earl  arrived  at  Newcastle  on  the  10th  of  April, 
intending  to  fix  his  head-quarters  at  Berwick.  And  now  the 
same  brutal  and  indiscriminate  warfare  was  transferred  to 
Scotland  which  the  year  before  had  marked  the  invasion  of 
France.  The  country  was  devastated  by  incessant  and  furious 
inroads ;  Eccles,  Ednam,  Stichell,  Kelso,  and  the  whole  track 

>  His  appointment  is  in  Lord  Herbert's  Hist.  Henry  VIII.,  3  a. 


1523.]  THE   WAR   RENEWED   WITH   SCOTLAND.  543 

as  far  as  Makerston,  were  given  to  the  sword.  At  Eccles  the 
invaders  were  met  by  a  convent  of  nuns,  who  surrendered  the 
keys  of  the  abbey,  with  a  promise  to  cast  down  in  a  few  days 
their  walls  and  defences;  if  they  failed,  as  Dacre  informed 
Surrey,  Sir  William  Bulmer  was  prepared  to  burn  their  abbey 
about  their  ears ;  so  little  respect  was  shown  to  the  weak,  the 
innocent,  and  the  sacred  in  these  terrible  wars.  From  Home 
Castle  to  Dunse,  and  all  along  the  East  border,  from  Eoxburgh 
and  Kelso,  between  the  Tweed  and  the  Teviot,  southward  to 
Jedburgh,  and  Ferniehurst,  the  whole  country  was  a  smoking 
waste. 

Should  Albany  arrive,  wrote  Wolsey  on  the  30th  of  August, 
to  the  English  ambassadors  with  the  Emperor,  all  Teviotdale 
and  the  March  have  been  so  destroyed,  "  that  there  is  left 
neither  house,  fortress,  village,  tree,  cattle,  corn,  or  other 
succor  for  man ;  insomuch  as  some  of  the  peoj)le  which  fled 
from  the  same,  and  afterwards  returned,  finding  no  sustenta- 
tion,  were  compelled  to  come  into  England,  begging  bread, 
which  oftentimes  when  they  eat  they  die  incontinently  for  the 
hunger  past;  and  with  no  imprisonment,  cutting  of  their  ears, 
burning  them  in  the  face,  or  otherwise,  can  be  kept  away. 
Such  is  the  punishment  of  Almighty  God  to  those  that  be  the 
disturbers  of  good  peace,  rest,  and  quiet  in  Christendom."  ^ 

The  language  of  Dacre  is  not  less  terrible  :  "If  these  raids 
are  done  well,"  he  exclaims,  in  a  tone  of  triumph,^  "  2,000  of 
the  garrison  may  be  discharged,  and  1,000  only  remain  on  the 
borders."  By  such  solitude  it  was  hoped  that  no  troops  would 
be  required,  and  the  King's  treasure  spared  :  whilst  a  desert, 
more  impassable  than  the  sea,  more  sterile  than  its  shore, 
would  thus  be  interposed  between  Scotland  and  England. 
But,  adds  Dacre,  "  the  captains  must  be  told  to  command 
their  retinues  to  burn,  or  they  will  not  take  the  trouble  to  do 
it."  Undeterred  by  the  horror  or  uncertainty  of  border  frays, 
some  of  the  more  sanguine  or  thrifty  inhabitants  of  the 
Scottish  borders  had  protected  their  poor  dwellings  with  a 
more  durable  covering  than  the  ordinary  thatch.  Such  pre- 
cautions defied  the  sloth  or  mischief  of  the  soldiers,  and  Dacre 
desired  to  be  furnished  with  300  sixpenny  axes,  for  distribution 
among  his  captains,  as  a  more  effectual  instrument  for  the 
work  of  destruction. 

Meanwhile,  the  Scotch  lords,  divided  among  themselves, 
and   left,    by   the    absence    of   Albany,   without   any   central 

'  III.  3281.  2  in.  30L)8. 


514  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

authority,  could  form  no  general  plan  of  action,  nor  agree 
upon  any  effectual  method  of  resistance.  The  commons, 
stung  with  resentment  for  sufferings  which  they  had  done 
nothing  to  provoke  and  could  do  nothing  to  prevent,  turned 
their  anger  against  the  French  and  the  terrified  adherents  of 
the  Duke  of  Albany.  Denounced  as  the  authors  of  all  these 
miseries,  the  unhappy  foreigners  would  have  fallen  victims  to 
the  fury  of  the  populace,  had  they  not  anticipated  its 
vengeance  by  retreating  into  the  castle  of  Dunbar  with  all 
their  artillery.^ 

"  The  King  has  heard,"  says  Wolsey  in  a  letter  to  Dacre, 
"  from  the  Friars  Observants,  who  have  returned  into  Scot- 
land, that  the  Scotch,  perceiving  how  they  are  deluded  by  the 
French  faction,  are  beginning  to  alter  their  minds.  The 
French  have  retired  to  the  castle  of  Dunbar,  where  they  have 
most  of  their  artillery,  living  in  great  dread  and  fear  of  them- 
selves, and  doubting  to  be  served  as  La  Batie  was,"  that  is, 
massacred.  He  suggests  to  Dacre,  that  if  any  man  of  note 
would  attempt  the  enterprise — that  is,  fall  upon  the  French,  as 
the  Homes  had  cut  off  La  Batie — and  would  undertake  to  hang 
the  bell  about  the  cat's  neck,  Albany's  faction  might  be 
"  briefly  extincted."  ^ 

It  is  not  needful  to  translate  these  expressions  into  plainer 
English.  The  Scots  were  enemies;  they  were  "weasels," 
and  were  therefore  to  be  hunted  down  with  as  little  compunc- 
tion as  vermin.  Who  can  doubt  it  ?  The  dictates  of  humanity 
were  out  of  the  question. 

Wolsey's  policy  was  on  the  eve  of  being  crowned  with 
success.     A  strict  and  unintermittent  watch  at   sea  by  the 
English  fleet  effectually  prevented  Albany's  passage.     Month 
after  month  slipped  away,  and  nothing  was  heard  of  him. 
To  increase  the  confusion,  Dacre,  unknown  to  Surrey,  was 
negociating  with  the  Chancellor  of  Scotland,  in  hopes  of  with- 
drawing him  from  his  allegiance  to  the  Duke,  and  inducing 
him,  in  conjunction  with  Margaret,  to  take  the  reins  into  his 
own  hands,  supported  by  the  power  of  England.     Margaret, 
more  susceptible  to  flattery,  listened  readily  to  a  plot  which 
seemed  to  promise  her  that  influence  for  which  she  had  craved 
and  schemed  so  long,  and  so  ineffectually.     What  effects  the 
insinuations  of  Dacre  had  produced  upon  her  may  be  seen  in 
her  letters.     She  determined  to  act  independently,  and  form 
a  party  for  herself.     To  arrange  a  peace  with  England  with- 

»  III.  3114.  2  III   2974,  3058,  3114. 


1523.]  MARGARET'S   AMBITION   AS   PEACE-MAKER.  54-5 

out  waiting  for  Albany's  consent,  to  strengthen  the  EngKsli 
interests  in  Scothind  by  keeping  Albany  in  France,  and 
expelling  his  adherents,  these  were  the  methods  by  which  she 
proposed  to  accomplish  her  purpose.  If  peace  could  be 
secured  by  her  mediation,  and  Scotland  be  relieved  of  the 
hostility  of  England,  she  might  reasonably  expect  that  the 
Scotch,  out  of  gratitude,  would  acknowledge  her  authority  ; 
and  even  if  Albany,  supported  by  foreign  troops,  should 
manage  to  return,  he  would  not  venture  to  violate  a  peace 
procured  through  her  means,  and  sanctioned  by  the  wishes 
and  interests  of  the  people.  If  she  failed  in  this  object,  she 
proposed  to  take  her  son  out  of  the  custody  of  the  noblemen 
to  whom  he  was  entrusted,  and  escape  with  him  over  the 
Borders. 

The  protracted  absence  of  Albany  seemed  to  favour  her 
designs.     He  was  unable  to  keep  his  promise  of  landing  in 
Scotland   at   the   day   appointed.     One    fleet   in   the   North, 
another  in  the  West,  a  third  in  the  Channel,  under  Fitzwilliam, 
barred  the  passage.    Any  attempt  to  cross  was  hopeless.    The 
Scotch  lords,  tired  of  waiting,  had  resolved  that  if  he  did  not 
arrive  on  the  last  day  of  August,  "  as,"  says  Wolsey,  "  I  trust 
he  shall  not,"  they  would  fall  from  France,   and  make  an 
alliance  with  England.     But  Margaret  had  undertaken  a  task 
beyond  her  powers.     The  Scotch  lords  refused  to  follow  her 
bidding ;    their  national  spirit  revolted  from  the  rule  of  an 
English  sovereign.     Much  as  they  might  dislike  the  French, 
they  were  not  yet  prepared  to  sacrifice  their  hereditary  allies 
to  their  hereditary  enemies.     They  declined  to  serve  under 
Margaret's  banner ;  ^  and  even  the  Chancellor  seems  to  have 
withdrawn  his  support  from  her.     August  slipped  away,  and 
Albany  came   not.      Yet  irresolute,  wavering  between  their 
hatred  of  England  and  their   unwillingness   to   entrust  the 
sovereignty  of  their  nation   to   youthful    and   inexperienced 
hands,  the  lords  met  on  St.  Giles's  Eve  (August  31)  in  the 
Tolbooth,   as   the  Abbot  of  Kelso  informed   Dacre,^  "about 
taking  forth  the  young  King,  and  making  peace  with  England." 
If  the  same  authority  is  to  bo  trusted,  James,  then  a  boy  of 
eleven  years,  had  written  with  his  own  hand  to  the  Queen 
and  the  lords,  desiring  to  be  set  at  liberty,  and  urging  an 
arrangement  with  England.     His  request  was  seconded  by 
Margaret  in  person,  and  in  all  probability  would  have  been 
granted,  had  not  the  French  ambassadors  assured  the  assembly 

'  III.  3305.  -  III.  3325. 

VOL.  r.  2  N 


546  THE   REIGN   OP   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

that  the  Governor  would  be  there  in  six  days.  "  That,"  the 
Queen  rephed,  insinuating  a  suspicion  of  their  statement, 
"  was  the  tidings  of  the  Canongate."  But  often  as  they  had 
been  disappointed,  and  improbable  as  the  assurance  seemed, 
the  lords  determined  to  wait.  They  refused  to  accede  to 
Margaret's  wishes,  resolving  unanimously  that  if  Albany  failed 
to  arrive  within  fourteen  days  after  Michaelmas,  the  Prince 
should  be  left  to  his  own  disposal. 

From  this  date  Margaret's  influence  declined ;  her  case,  as 
Surrey  admitted  to  Wolsey,  was  hopeless.^  Even  the  dread 
of  Enghsh  invasion  wrought  no  change  in  the  decision  of  the 
Scotch  lords.  They  had  seen  the  worst.  These  continual 
and  destructive  inroads  produced  no  other  effect  than,  as  the 
Lacedaemonian  King  told  his  countrymen  more  than  two 
thousand  years  ago,  such  sufferings  ever  do  produce — callous- 
ness and  indifference.  When  cruelty  has  done  its  worst,  it 
defeats  itself,  and  dies  of  its  own  sting.  Nor,  if  it  had  been 
otherwise,  were  the  afflictions  of  the  common  people,  as 
Margaret  admitted  to  Surrey,  likely  to  influence  the  conduct 
of  the  Lords.  They,  in  her  emphatic  language,  laughed  at 
injuries  which  only  tended  to  alienate  the  hearts  of  those  who 
were  best  affected  to  England,  without  terrifying  the  Lords, 
who  escaped  unharmed.^ 

A  letter  was  produced  from  Albany,  in  the  same  parlia- 
ment, in  which  Margaret  had  failed  to  obtain  possession  of 
her  son,  excusing  his  delay,  and  desiring  that  the  King  should 
be  detained  at  Stirling  as  usual. ^  He  attributed  his  own  long 
absence  to  a  secret  design  he  had  set  on  foot  for  the  welfare 
of  Scotland,  but  had  not  yet  been  able  to  bring  to  maturity ; 
that  done,  his  brother  Eichard  de  la  Pole,  as  Albany  called 
him,  tarried  only  till  he  knocked  at  the  door,  to  come  forth 
with  an  army  and  invade  England.  As  a  further  encourage- 
ment to  the  lords,  it  was  given  out  by  the  Duke's  adherents 
that  he  had  already  embarked  at  some  port  in  Picardy, 
attended  with  200  horse,  and  10,000  foot.  If  this  were  not 
an  empty  boast,  and  it  is  scarcely  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
it  was  wholly  the  offspring  of  Albany's  vanity,  it  was  evidently 
the  intention  of  Francis  to  distract  the  King  of  England's 
attention  by  attacking  him  simultaneously  in  opposite  quarters. 
Whilst  Albany  invaded  the  northern  provinces  with  a  powerful 
army,  De  la  Pole  was  to  effect  a  landing  in  the  West.  "  I 
think,"  says  Sir  Eobert  Wingfield,  to  whom  we  are  indebted 

'  III.  3349.  -  III.  3311.  '  III.  3315. 


1523.]  ALBANY'S  RETURN  TO  SCOTLAND.  517 

for  this  information,^  "that  France  shall  have  tow  enough  on 
the  rock,  though  they  seek  not  for  more  work  and  cost  in 
Scotland  or  Itah'."  It  might  have  been  thought  that  the 
treason  of  Bourbon  would  have  compelled  Francis  to  contract 
his  aims,  and  XDrovide  for  his  own  safety  and  that  of  his 
subjects,  without  courting  fresh  adventures  in  a  distant  quarter. 
And  nothing  shows  more  clearly  the  resources  and  elasticity 
of  France,  and  the  indomitable  spirit  of  its  ruler  than  that, 
threatened  as  he  was  by  a  general  combination  of  all  the 
continental  powers,  he  still  fearlessly  held  up  his  head,  and 
bade  defiance  to  all  his  enemies. 

With  the  Duke  of  Bourbon  "  in  his  bosom,"  to  use  Wolsey's 
expressive  words,  pressed  on  all  sides,  by  the  Emperor  in  the 
South,  by  Suffolk  and  de  Buren  in  the  West,  by  the  German 
troojis  under  Count  Felix  in  the  East,  reverses  attending  his 
arms  in  Italy,  a  victorious  army  advancing  without  opposition 
on  his  capital,  and  ready  to  thunder  at  its  gates,  Francis  yet 
retained  spirit  and  resolution  enough  to  spare  some  thoughts 
for  his  ancient  ally.  Before  the  25th  of  September  Albany 
had  landed  in  Scotland  :  he  had  contrived,  a  second  time,  to 
run  the  gauntlet  of  the  English  fleet  without  attracting  obser- 
vation, and  effected  his  disembarkation  m  Scotland  at  a  time 
and  place  equally  unknown  to  friends  and  enemies.^  The 
lords  at  once  flocked  to  his  standard ;  whatever  promises  they 
had  held  out  to  Margaret,  to  Dacre,  or  to  Surrey  were  now ' 
given  to  the  winds.  No  other  proof  is  needed  of  the  great 
influence  exercised  by  Albany.  "  The  Lords  are  in  such  fear 
of  the  Duke,  looking  every  hour  for  him  to  arrive,"  writes 
Surrey  to  Wolsey,  "  that  and  they  had  laid  four  of  the  best  of 
their  sons  in  hostage  to  forsake  him,  yet  if  he  came  they 
would  break  their  covenant."  The  evidence  of  that  influence 
cannot  be  questioned,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  motive 
thus  assigned  for  it.''^ 

Surrey  had  now  been  lying  on  the  Borders  for  six  months, 
and,  with  the  exception  of  a  furious  assault  upon  Jedburgh,  ; 

and  the  forays  already  mentioned,  nothing  of  moment  had 
yet  been  accomplished  towards  the  subjugation  of  Scotland,  ' 

or  its  emancipation  from  the  influence  of  Albany.  The  Earl's 
forces,  superior  in  numbers  to  the  Scotch,  were  augmented  by 
the  retinues  of  the  Dacres,  the  Constables,  the  Cliffords,  and 
all  the   Border  lords.      He  was  well   provided  with  a  fleet,  i 

'  JIL  2798,  280!).  the  last  occaHion.     Seo  fIL  3;{(;0. 

^  Trobaljly  at  Dumljarton,  as   ou  •*  111.  3351.     Soo  al«o  JS'o.  3361.  ^ 


548  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY   VKI.  [A.D. 

artilleiy,  large  sums  of  money,  and  munitions  of  war.  At 
Edinburgh  Margaret  was  doing  her  best  to  furnish  him  with 
intelHgence,  and  raise  a  party  in  his  favour.  She  had 
impressed  upon  him,  more  than  once,  the  uselessness  of  these 
Border  wars,  and  the  necessity  of  advancing  and  striking  a 
blow  at  Edinburgh  itself.  She  might  not  have  been  a  very 
competent  judge  of  military  operations,  yet,  when  she  told 
Surrey  that  a  thousand  men  with  artillery  would  place  the 
capital  at  his  mercy,  "if  they  came  suddenly,"  it  is  not 
improbable  that,  had  Surrey  followed  her  advice,  and,  instead 
of  wasting  time  and  men  in  petty  raids  upon  the  borders,  had 
rapidly  concentrated  his  forces  for  one  great  and  effective 
blow,  he  might  have  done  more  towards  humbling  Albany's 
party  than  by  all  his  attacks  on  isolated  forts  and  undefended 
villages.  What,  then,  was  his  reason  for  hanging  back  ? 
Was  it,  as  he  stated  to  Wolsey,  that  he  had  not  sufficient 
carriage  for  victuals  even  for  a  single  day  ?  Was  it  that  his 
forces,  when  united  with  Dacre's,  would  not  amount,  as  he 
said,  to  more  than  9,000  men,  good  and  bad,  and  were  there- 
fore insufficient  for  such  an  enterprise  ?  Or  did  he  fear  that 
whilst  he  was  thus  engaged  at  a  distance,  "  leaving  the  country 
ungarnished  of  men,"  the  Scotch  would  take  advantage  of  his 
absence,  and  troop  over  the  Border  like  hungry  wolves,  carry- 
ing death  and  devastation  before  them  ?  It  may  be  that  all 
these  considerations  contributed  to  prevent  the  Earl,  though 
a  man  of  undoubted  courage,  from  attempting  the  daring  feat 
of  a  descent  upon  Edinburgh,  even  under  the  most  favourable 
circumstances.  But  it  is  also  clear  that  he  stood  somewhat 
in  awe  of  the  obstinate  courage  and  passionate  resistance  of 
the  Scots.  Even  when  their  houses  were  unroofed,  their 
strongholds  thrown  down,  their  cattle  driven  off,  their  crops 
burnt  before  arriving  at  maturity,  they  contested  every  inch 
of  ground,  with  incredible  valour,  against  overwhelming 
numbers.  Famine,  plague,  unutterable  want  and  waste  stared 
them  everywhere  in  the  face  ;  yet  their  indomitable  spirit 
could  neither  be  quenched  nor  subdued.  Crescit  sub  pondere 
virtus ;  and  these  terrible  Border  wars,  which  have  left  the 
stamp  of  their  iron  hoof  on  the  face  of  the  country  ever  since, 
served  to  bring  out  that  pertinacity  of  purpose,  that  inflexible 
perseverance,  that  unswerving  resolution  in  the  Scot,  which 
have  taught  him  to  fear  no  evil,  to  be  cool  and  intrepid  in  the 
wildest  storm,  and  patient  under  the  most  cruel  suffering. 
"  I  assure  your  Grace,"  says  Surrey  to  Wolsey,  describing  an 


1523.]  JEALOUSIES   OF  BOEDER   CHIEFS.  549 

attack  upon  Ferniehirst,  "  I  found  the  Scots  at  this  time  the 
boldest  men  and  the  hottest  that  ever  I  saw  in  any  nation," 
It  would  be  hard,  he  adds,  to  encounter  them,  if  they  could 
muster  40,000  as  good  men  as  the  1,500  or  2,000  who  at  that 
time  kept  himself  and  Dacre  at  bay.^ 

At  the  same  time  it  must  be  remembered  that  Surrey  had 
other  difficulties  to  contend  with,  as  is  clear  from  his  various 
letters,  in  the  insubordination  and  mutual  jealousies  of  the 
Border  lords.  They  were  divided  into  various  factions,  the 
Constables,  the  EUerkers,  the  Tempests,  the  Savilles,  and  the 
Gowers ;  all  of  them  mortal  enemies  to  Scotland,  and  not  less 
mortal  enemies  to  each  other ;  and  all  of  them — to  a  man — read}" 
to  settle  theu'  quarrels  with  the  sword  at  any  moment,  whenever 
they  might  chance  to  meet.^  Their  ill  blood,  heated  and 
thickened  by  generations  of  animosity,  was  kept  at  boiling  pitch 
by  the  bickerings,  the  thefts,  the  disorders  and  mutual  disputes 
of  their  several  dependants.  Every  man  and  boy,  from  page  to 
henchman,  was  animated  by  the  spii'it  of  clanship,  and  with 
the  name  inherited  the  feuds  of  his  chief.  On  high  days  or 
working  days,  at  church  or  in  the  market,  at  home  or  on  an 
expedition,  their  passions  broke  out  for  the  merest  trifle,  for 
the  most  imaginary  wrong,  and  set  men  together  by  the  ears, 
circle  extending  upon  circle,  like  a  weird  eddy  of  autumnal 
leaves — as  wild,  as'  uncertain,  and  as  purposeless.  Any 
attempt  to  extinguish  the  fii'e  was  hopeless.  The  contagion 
was  universal,  and  therefore  it  found  no  punishment :  it  was 
native  to  the  blood,  and  therefore  it  defied  all  remedy.^ 

Nor  can  it  be  supposed  that  Dacre,  whose  authority  on  the 
Borders  had  been  paramount  for  many  years  before  Surrey's 
arrival,  would  see  himself  superseded  and  his  authority  con- 
trolled, even  by  a  nobleman,  great  as  was  the  Earl,  without 
occasional  outbursts  of  jealousy  and  discontent.  More  than 
once,  though  willing  to  do  justice  to  Dacre's  spirit,  activity, 
and  hardihood,  Surrey  has  to  lament  that  Dacre  takes  bis  own 
course,  and  endangers  the  common  cause  by  his  wilful  and 
headstrong  disobedience.  While  Dacre  who  had  greater 
experience  of  the  Borders,  had  from  bo3^hood  upwards,  been 
engaged  with  the  Scots,  reasonably  imagined  that  his  opinions 

•   III.  3361.  brought    up    for    trial;    but    no    one 

2  III.  3210.  could  be  persuaded  to  give  evidence 

^  When  Surrey  was  at  Newcastle,  against  them,  because  there  were  few 

four  arrant  thieves  who  had  escaped  gentlemen   in    Northumberland    who 

from   Alnwick,  and  eight  from  New-  bad  not  thieves  among  their  rutiuue. 

castle,     with    eleven    others,     were  III.  3240. 


550  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

were  better  founded  than  those  of  Surrey,  a  comparative 
stranger  ;  and  he  was  not  always  prepared  to  sacrifice  his  con- 
victions to  the  demands  of  discipline.  On  one  occasion  he 
went  so  far  as  to  refuse  to  join  his  forces  with  the  Earl's, 
except  he  might  be  allowed  to  take  his  own  road — though  the 
shortest — through  the  wildest  part  of  Scotland.^  On  another, 
when  engaged  with  the  Earl  upon  a  foray,  he  refused  at  night- 
fall to  lodge  his  troops  within  the  Earl's  camp,  and  whilst 
Surrey  was  at  supper  the  horses  broke  loose,  created  a  panic 
in  the  camp,  and  800  out  of  1,500  were  lost  by  his  pertinacity. 
"  There  is  no  hardier  or  better  knight,"  says  Surrey,  recount- 
ing this  misadventure  to  Wolsey,  "but  often  he  neglects  order;  " 
— a  remark  which  might  have  been  applied  with  equal  truth 
to  almost  every  gentleman  and  nobleman  on  the  Borders.^ 

On  Albany's  arrival,  it  was  his  first  object  to  undo  the 
effects  of  English  policy  in  Scotland.  It  had  been  the  chief 
aim  of  that  policy  to  form  an  English  party,  with  Margaret  at 
its  head.  Albany  found  no  great  difliculty  in  detaching  the 
Queen  once  more  from  the  side  she  had  so  lately  espoused. 
The  prioress  of  Coldstream,  her  confidant,  conveys  the  im- 
portant intelligence  to  Sir  William  Bulmer,  that  the  Queen  is 
very  fickle  ;  "therefore  counsel  the  man  ye  know  (Surrey)  not 
to  take  on  hand  over  much  of  her  credence."  The  Governor, 
she  assures  him,  had  sent  her  fair  words,  and  she  was  become 
half  a  Frenchwoman  already.^  Margaret  wavered  between 
her  brother  and  Albany ;  had  she  received  encouragement,  she 
would  have  preferred  to  have  thrown  in  her  lot  with  the 
former ;  but,  strange  to  say,  Henry  did  not  meet  her  advances. 
Perhaps  he  had  grown  wea,Tj  of  her  society  when  she  was  last 
in  England,  a  few  years  before,  and  did  not  desire  to  have  it 
renewed.  He  disliked  the  expense  it  entailed  upon  him ; — 
that,  perhaps,  and  that  only.  "  Under  the  King's  high  cor- 
rection, and  your  Grace's,"  writes  Surrey  to  Wolsey,  with  the 
business  habits  of  an  Englishman,  "  methink  it  were  as  profit- 
able, and  more  good  should  come  thereof,  to  have  her  remain 
in  Scotland  than  to  come  into  England  .  .  .  And  where  three 
or  four  hundred  pounds  in  a  year  should  please  her  well  being 
there  (in  Scotland),  peradventure  1,000  marks  or  2,000  should 
scarcely  do  so  being  here."  ^  With  an  impetuous  candour,  she 
had  offered  to  start  away  into  England,  "  in  her  smock,  if  need 
be  ;  "  but  her  liberal  proposal  was  not  as  eagerly  accepted  as 
it  was  freely  made  ;  and  she  had  doubts,  as  well  she  might 

'  III.  3349.      ^  III.  3364.      ^  ixi.  3404.      ^   III.  3381. 


1523.]  MARGARET  "WAVERS.  551 

have,  how  she  stood  in  Hem-y's  favour.  With  the  insinuating 
address  of  a  Stuart,  Albany  had  not  failed  to  steal  upon  her 
good  graces.  Next  to  making  numerous  promises,  b}'^  which 
he  never  failed  of  flattering  her  vanity,  he  took  the  surest  way 
of  securing  a  place  in  her  affections  by  rendering  himself 
acceptable  to  the  3'oung  prince.  He  permitted  him  to  ride 
about  Stirling  at  his  pleasure,  according  to  the  information  of 
an  unknown  correspondent ;  presented  him  with  two  gowns 
of  cloth  of  gold  and  cloth  of  silver,  begging  him  to  be  blithe 
and  merry,  as  he  was  prepared  to  lay  down  his  life  in  his 
service.-^  His  attentions  were  not  lost  upon  Margaret.  On 
Sunday,  saj-s  the  same  cynical  correspondent,  the  Governor 
came  to  the  town  with  three  hundred  men,  and  tarried  with 
the  Queen  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  "and  she  made  evil  cheer 
(aj)peared  sorrowful)  after  his  departing  ;  but  I  trust  in  God 
that  she  shall  take  no  displeasure  (hurt)  ;  for  this  Monday  sin 
nine  hours  she  has  been  singing  and  dancing,  and  the  French- 
men with  her."^ 

■  Such  levity  appeared  scandalous  in  a  sister  of  the  King  of 
England,  still  more  in  one  who  but  a  short  time  before  had 
signaHzed  her  animosity  against  the  Duke  by  employing  every 
effort  to  keep  him  out  of  Scotland.  With  Margaret  it  was  the 
mere  dictate  of  policy.  Placed  between  two  great  contending 
factions,  without  authority  or  interest  with  either,  she  resolved 
to  use  both  to  her  own  advantage,  and  join  with  those  whom 
she  found  most  willing  to  advance  her  purposes.  In  a  letter 
to  her  confidant,  Patrick  Sinclair,  sent  by  her  secretly  to 
Surrey,  she  discloses  the  real  motives  of  her  conduct.  She 
was  resolved  to  know  definitely  the  intentions  of  both  parties 
towards  her  before  she  determined  on  her  course.  The 
Governor,  she  says,  makes  her  the  fairest  promises,  and 
Henry's  silence  is  ominous  ;  still  she  would  rather  trust  the 
King;  "  for  the  Governor,"  she  adds,  "  can  say  one  thing,  and 
think  another.  But  all  ladies  get  fair  words  now  while  (until) 
this  hosting  be  done ;  but  after  that  I  hear  say  that  he  will  be 
right  sharp,  by  them  that  know  his  mind  ;  and  I  dread  I  shall 
have  my  part."^ 

The  season  was  rapidly  advancing ;  it  was  necessary  for 
Albany,  if  he  wished  to  redeem  his  credit,  to  bestir  himself  at 
once,  and  make  some  warlike  demonstration  against  England. 
According  to  the  information  furnished  by  Margaret  to  Surrey, •* 
the  French  troops  attending   on  the  Duke  numbered  0,000 

'  III.  342G.  2  in.  34..J.1..  3  iii^i^  *  Iir.  33G8. 


5.32  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

foot ;  "and  I  hear  say,"  she  adds,  "  shall  be  put  in  the  van- 
guard, because  he  giveth  not  great  trust  to  the  Scotchmen." 
Three  thousand  Almains,  whose  mode  of  fighting  was  novel, 
and  therefore  terrible  to  raw  English  troops,  were  expected 
daily.  The  Duke's  munitions  of  war  were  more  formidable 
than  had  ever  been  seen  in  Scotland.  Pie  had  twenty-eight 
cannons,  and  four  double  cannons,  the  largest  that  had  yet 
been  employed  in  a  siege.  "  Also,"  continues  Margaret,  "he 
hath  great  pavasys  (shields  ? )  ganging  upon  wheels  with  the 
artillery,  to  shoot  and  to  break  the  hosts  asunder  ;  and  of 
these  he  hath  many ;  and  every  een  of  them  hath  twa  sharp 
swords  before  them,  that  none  may  touch  them ;  "  besides 
smaller  artillery  and  ample  ammunition,  and  twelve  ships 
with  victuals  and  wine.  According  to  the  information  of 
another  correspondent,  Lord  Ogle,^  Albany  brought  with  him 
to  Dumbarton  87  ships,  100  barded  horses,  500  light  horse, 
4,000  foot,  500  men-at-arms,  1,000  hagbusshis  (musqueteers) , 
900  serpentines  and  falcons,  16  great  guns,  and  gunpowder  to 
the  value  of  10,000  crowns  weight.  Proclamations  were  dis- 
persed by  the  Duke  throughout  Scotland,  commanding  all 
temporal  men  between  the  ages  of  sixty  and  sixteen  to  meet 
on  the  20th  of  October  with  thirty  days'  victual,  at  the  follow- 
ing rendezvous ;  Lothian,  Teviotdale,  and  the  parts  adjoining 
under  Arran  at  Lawder ;  Kyle,  Cunningham,'  and  Carrick,  at 
Lanark,  under  Lennox ;  the  Highlandmen,  under  Argyle,  at 
Glasgow  ;  the  Northern  men  at  Stirling,  under  Huntley. 

An  army  so  imposing  had  never  appeared  before  upon  the 
Borders.  Even  Surrey,  not  used  to  fear,  was  full  of  appre- 
hension. The  Duke  was  expected  to  march  towards  England 
on  the  next  new  moon  after  the  8th  of  October.  The  weather 
had  been  foul,  with  rain  and  snow ;  the  roads  were  scarcely 
passable  for  great  ordnance,  except  in  the  direction  of  Berwick  ; 
but  Surrey  was  too  well  acquainted  with  the  proud  and  im- 
petuous spirit  of  the  Duke,  to  suppose  that  he  would  be 
diverted  from  his  purpose  by  such  feeble  obstacles  as  these. 
"By  many  ways  I  am  advertised,"  he  says  in  a  letter  to 
Wolsey,  "  that  the  duke  of  Albany  is  a  marvellous  wilful  man, 
and  will  believe  no  man's  counsel,  but  will  have  his  own 
opinion  followed ;  and  because  the  French  king  hath  been  at 
so  great  charges,  having  his  wife's  inheritance  lying  within 
his  dominions,  dare  not,  for  no  Scottish  counsel,  forbear  to 
invade   this   realm.      I   am   also    advertised   that   he   is    so 

•  III.  3403.     Compare  N       3360,  3362,  3404 


1523.]  ALARM   OF   SURREY.  553 

passionate,  that  and  be  be  apart  amongst  bis  famibars,  and 
doth  bear  anything  contrarious  to  bis  mind  and  pleasure,  bis 
accustomed  manner  is  to  take  bis  bonnet  suddenl}^  off  bis  bead, 
and  to  throw  it  in  the  fire,  and  no  man  dare  take  it  out,  but 
let  it  to  be  brent.  My  lord  Dacre  doth  affirm,  that  at  bis  last 
beins:  in  Scotland  he  did  burn  above  a  dozen  bonnets  after 
that  manner.  And  if  be  be  such  a  man,  we  shall  speed  the 
better  with  him." 

But  though  Surrey  thus  expressed  bis  hopes  of  victory,  be 
was  not  wholly  satisfied  with  the  means  at  his  disposal  for 
resisting  the  invasion.  No  account  has  been  preserved  of  the 
forces  under  bis  command,  but  they  could  not  be,  in  point  of 
number  or  of  discipline,  equal  to  those  of  his  opponent.  The 
French  reinforcements  of  Albany  gave  him  no  trouble;  he 
shared  that  feeling  of  contempt  with  which  they  were  regarded 
by  most  Engbsbmen  of  his  time.  But  the  3,000  Almains  were 
a  more  formidable  force,  and  the  enterprise  was  proportionably 
dangerous. 

In  these  perplexities,  the  Earl  wrote  to  Wolsey  in  a  tone 
of  remonstrance,  not  less  unusual  with  him  than  strange  as 
it  must  appear  to  modern  readers,  accustomed  to  form  an 
exaggerated  estimate  of  the  Cardinal's  haughty  demeanour, 
and  his  master's  impatience  of  reproof.  He  requests  Wolsey 
that  "  some  noblemen  and  gentlemen  of  the  King's  bouse,  of 
the  south  parts,  may  be  sent  hither,  though  they  bring  no 
great  numbers  with  them.  God  knowetb,"  be  adds,  "if  the 
poorest  gentleman  of  the  King's  bouse  were  here,  and  I  at 
London,  and  were  advertised  of  these  news,  I  would  not  fail 
to  kneel  upon  my  knees  before  the  King's  grace,  to  have 
licence  to  come  hither  in  post,  to  be  at  the  day  of  battle.  And 
if  young  noblemen  and  gentlemen  be  not  desirous  and  willing 
to  be  at  such  journeys,  and  to  take  the  pain  and  give  the 
adventure,  and  the  King's  highness  ivell  contented  with  those 
that  will  so  do,  and  not  regarding  others  that  ivill  he  hut  {except 
they  he^  dancers,  dicers,  and  carders,  his  Grace  shall  not  he  tvell 
served  when  he  icoidd  he.  For  men  rvithout  exjjcrience  shall  do 
small  service,  and  experience  of  tvar  ivill  not  he  had  ivithout  it  he 
sought  for,  and  the  adventure  given.''  ^ 

Wolsey  treated  the  Earl's  apprehensions  with  coldness,  if 
not  with  contempt.  His  reply  is  no  less  indicative  of  his 
wonderful  sagacity,  bis  keen  insight  into  Albany's  character, 
than  it  is  calculated  to  inspire  the  Earl  with  confidence,  and 

•III.  3105. 


554  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [A.D. 

sting  him  to  exertion.  He  told  Surrey  that  he  had  been 
needlessly  alarmed  by  the  flying  reports  of  the  Duke's  numbers 
and  ordnance ;  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  assemble  his 
forces  in  the  time  specified,  and  transport  his  ammunition 
across  the  moors  in  such  rainy  and  tempestuous  weather.  He 
demonstrated  to  Surrey — and  he  spoke  from  his  own  experience 
of  similar  cases  in  England — that  it  was  not  possible  for  the 
Duke  to  collect  victuals  in  Scotland  for  thirty  days,  within  two 
or  three  months'  time  at  the  least.  "  Besides,"  added  the 
Cardinal,  "it  is  not  unknown  that  king  James,  whom  your 
father  and  you  slew,  was  a  man  of  great  courage,  well  beloved 
and  in  great  estimation  amongst  his  subjects  ;  and  yet  was  it 
not  little  difficult  for  him  to  bring  the  Scots,  the  King's  grace 
being  then  out  of  the  realm,  and  the  king  of  Scots  having 
great  treasure,  victual,  harness,  ordnance,  and  provision  made 
of  a  long  season  before  in  the  best  and  most  convenable  time 
of  the  year,  to  condescend  unto  the  invasion  of  England; 
wherein  what  fortune  and  success  they  had  may  percase  be  a 
remembrance  and  example  to  those  which  at  a  more  unmeet 
time  would  think  to  attempt  the  same."  He  concluded  his 
letter  by  assuring  the  Earl  that  the  King  would  send  him  for 
his  comfort  the  Lord  Marquis  (Dorset),  Sir  Nicholas  Carew, 
Sir  Francis  Brian,  Baynton,  and  others,  who  had  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  the  King's  favourites,  and  were  the  southern 
lords  to  whom  Surrey  had  somewhat  contemptuously  alluded 
in  his  letter.-^ 

With  the  sagacity  of  true  genius,  the  Cardinal  had  already 
directed  the  Earl  what  tactics  he  was  to  adopt. ^  Aware  of  the 
difficulty  experienced  by  the  Scots  in  procuring  provisions, 
Wolsey  advised  him  to  stand  on  the  defensive,  and  not  hazard 
a  battle  except  at  manifest  advantage.  He  was  to  keep  the 
Duke  in  check,  and  prevent  him  from  forcing  an  engagement 
by  encamping  not  far  from  the  places  which  the  Duke  meant 
to  attack.  The  advanced  season  of  the  year,  the  impossibility 
of  obtaining  supplies  upon  the  Borders,  assiduously  devastated 
by  Dacre  and  the  Earl  during  the  last  nine  months,  would 
ruin  the  Duke's  enterprise,  and  delay  was  more  fatal  to  him 
than  battle.  In  venturing  his  troops  against  a  series  of  strong 
forts,  any  one  of  which  could  easily  stand  a  siege  of  some 
weeks,  Albany  had  nothing  to  gain  but  barren  honour ;  whilst 
the  Scots,  ill  supplied,  exposed  to  the  inclemency  of  the 
weather,  and  by  no  means  inclined  to  treat  the  French  and 

1  III.  3421.  2  jij_  3379_ 


1523.]  WOLSEY'S   sagacious   ADVICE.  555 

foreign  aids  of  Albany  with  favour,  would  soon  grow  tired  of  a 
war  from  which  they  derived  neither  glory  nor  advantage.  If 
the  Earl  conducted  the  "war  like  Fabius,"  and  amused  or 
wearied  the  Scots  until  their  provisions  were  exhausted,  be 
might  then  pursue  them  in  theii-  retreat,  disappointed,  hungry, 
discontented  with  their  officers,  and  a  prey  to  the  angry 
elements. 

These  suggestions  require  no  comment.  The  good  sense  of 
them  is  admirable  ;  the  thorough  mastery  they  display  of  a 
subject,  to  which  the  Cardinal  by  education  and  profession 
could  have  given  little  attention,  is  an  indication  of  genius 
equally  at  home  in  the  most  apposite  and  heterogeneous 
subjects.  Though  a  proud  and  imperious  man  like  Surrey 
might  fret  under  his  chains,  he  could  not  but  feel  that  be  was 
in  the  hands  of  a  master  ;  not  one,  as  Shakespeare  describes 
him  (though  he  puts  that  speech  into  the  mouth  of  a  waiting- 
woman,  judging  kindly  but  not  profoundly),  not  one  that  was 
merely  "  lofty  and  sour  to  them  who  loved  him  not,"  but 
whose  loftiness  was  endurable  for  the  superiority  of  his  in- 
tellect. To  that  superiority  even  a  proud  man  like  Surrey 
bowed,  as  all  men  did ;  and  in  Wolsey's  intercourse  with  the 
Earl,  his  authoritative  reproof  (if  so  it  must  be  called)  of 
Surrey's  impatience  was  mingled  with  a  frank  admission  of  his 
own  and  his  father's  military  excellence ;  a  bitter-sweet,  which 
exacted  fi'om  the  Earl  respect  to  the  opinions  of  the  great 
minister,  who  in  temper  was  as  lofty  as  himself,  and  far 
above  him  in  all  the  gifts  of  genius. 

Whilst  Albany  had  appointed  October  20,  and  Eosley 
(Roslin  ?)  More,  two  miles  from  Edinburgh,  as  the  rendezvous 
for  such  of  the  troops  as  were  expected  from  the  North,  those 
of  the  West  were  to  meet  at  Biggar.  The  men  of  Nithsdale, 
Galloway,  and  the  parts  adjoining  were  to  assemble  at  Moffat  ; 
those  of  Teviotdale  and  the  March,  at  Lauder.^  All  were  to 
be  in  their  places  by  the  30th  of  October.  At  this  time  Surrey 
was  at  Newcastle,  uncertain  of  the  way  the  Duke  would  be 
likely  to  take ;  whether  towards  Berwick  or  Carlisle,  Avhere 
Dacre  was  posted.  If  he  advanced  upon  Carlisle,  fifteen 
ships-of-war  had  been  provided,  to  sail  to  Leith,  and  burn 
Edinburgh  and  Haddington :  such,  at  least,  was  the  report 
assiduously  circulated  in  the  hope  that  Albany  might  be 
deterred  from  taking  the  western  route,  and  turn  his  attention 
to  the  East  Borders,  where  Surrey  was  better  prepared  to 

'  III.  3409. 


556  THE   EEIGN   OF  HENEY   VIIL  [A.D. 

meet  liim.  The  Duke,  owing  to  the' difficulties  he  experienced 
in  collecting  his  forces,  and  in  transporting  his  artillery, 
advanced  by  slow  marches,  unlike  a  man  who  feels  confident 
of  victory.  But  he  had  many  difficulties  to  contend  with  :  the 
roads  were  impassable  from  the  incessant  rains,  the  season  was 
far  advanced,  the  Scotch  lords  hung  back,  alleging  the  im- 
possibility of  bringing  on  their  retainers.  Neither  Huntley 
nor  Lennox  was  hearty  in  the  cause.-^  On  Thursday,  the 
22nd  of  October,^  the  Duke  started  from  Edinburgh.  He  took 
the  road  leading  to  Lauder,  leaving  his  enemies  uncertain  of 
his  ultimate  destination.  It  was  his  own  wish  to  have 
marched  towards  Carlisle  ;  but  his  better  judgment  was  over- 
ruled by  the  Scotch  lords,  who  advised  him,  in  consequence 
of  the  weather,  to  invest  Wark  and  Norham,  Despatching 
Lord  Maxwell  to  the  west  with  5,000  men,^  he  himself  turned 
in  the  direction  of  Berwick. 

Before  leaving  Edinburgh,  the  Duke  had  addressed  the 
lords  in  words  calculated  to  rouse  their  national  spirit,  had 
it  not  been  sufficiently  roused  already  by  the  injuries  they  had 
suffered  during  the  last  nine  months.  After  dwelling  upon 
the  cost  and  personal  sacrifices  he  had  encountered  in  order 
to  rescue  them  from  the  power  of  the  invader,  and  secure  the 
independence  of  Scotland,  he  desired  them  to  remember  the 
fate  of  their  late  liing,  and  the  deaths  of  their  fathers  and 
nobles  at  Flodden.  Their  borders  had  been  wasted,  their 
people  killed,  their  kirks  and  their  castles  demolished  and 
burnt.  And  who,  he  exclaimed,  have  been  the  authors  of  all 
these  evils  ?  Who  but  an  Earl  of  England  and  his  father. 
Could  they  not,  he  asked,  find  it  in  their  hearts  to  draw  the 
sword  for  Scotland,  and  meet  that  man  in  battle  who  had 
done  them  this  displeasure  ?  The  Scotch  lords  were  men  of 
rugged  mould,  not  used  to  melting ;  but  this  appeal  touched 
the  tenderest  fibres.  In  the  tumult  of  their  conflicting 
emotions,  and  their  passionate  energy  for  revenge,  Albany 
was  for  a  moment  transfigured  into  an  angel  of  deliverance. 
"They  kneeled  of  their  knees,"  says  an  eyewitness,  "and 
swore  that  they  would  do  any  thing  that  he  would  command 
them."  ^ 

Two  days  had  elapsed  since 'the  Duke  started  from  Edin- 
burgh, and  he  had  not  yet  been  able  to  concentrate  his  powers. 
The  army  marched  in  three  distinct  divisions.     The  Westland 

»  III.  3438,  3451.  ^  III.  3451,  3459. 

«  III.  3456.  *  III.  3441. 


1523.]  ALBANY'S   ATTACK   ON   WARK   CASTLE.  557 

lords  di-ew  towards  Musselburgh  ;  the  French  were  at  Lauder  ; 
the  Northern  lords,  at  Lauderdale.  On  the  24th,  evidently 
with  only  one  division  of  his  army,  Albany  advanced  to 
Melrose  and  Driburgh.  Here  several  days  were  wasted  before 
his  musters  and  ammunition  could  arrive.^  Buchanan,  who 
is  stated  by  Pinkerton  ^  to  have  been  present,  and  whose  in- 
formation for  this  portion  of  his  history  was  evidently  derived 
from  trustworthy  sources,  affirms  that  the  Duke  threw  a 
wooden  bridge  across  the  river  at  this  point,  and  crossed  with 
his  host  into  the  English  borders,  but  was  compelled  to  recross 
the  river,  as  the  Scotch  refused  to  follow  him.  Buchanan 
seems  to  have  thought  that  no  other  means  existed  for  crossing 
at  Meh'ose;  yet  Dacre  speaks  of  "Melrose  Brig,"  over  which 
the  Duke  passed,  as  a  well-known  structure,^  and  omits  all 
notice  of  this  defection  of  the  Scots. 

Surrey  by  this  time  had  advanced  to  Alnwick,  followed  by 
the  Earls  of  Westmoreland  and  Northumberland.  The  Lord 
Marquis  was  posted  at  Berwick  with  six  or  seven  thousand 
men ;  Darcy,  at  Bamburgh  ;  Dacre,  at  Carlisle  or  Naworth. 
KeejDing  north  of  the  Tweed,  Albany  directed  his  steps  towards 
Kelso.  On  the  28th  he  was  at  Eccles  ;  the  next  day,  at  Home 
Castle.  Here  five  or  six  of  his  great  guns  were  disabled  by 
the  fracture  of  their  axletrees.  On  the  1st  of  November  he 
laid  siege  to  Wark  Castle. 

As  soon  as  the  intentions  of  the  Duke  had  become  clearly 
known  to  Surrey,  he  concentrated  his  power.  Whilst  Dacre 
marched  with  all  his  disposable  forces  to  Ford,  the  Earl 
advanced  to  Holy  Island.^  It  is  not  easy  to  ascertain  the 
precise  numbers  on  either  side.  Wark  Castle  consisted  of  a 
dungeon  surrounded  with  double  walls.  As  in  most  of  the 
Border  fortresses,  the  area  between  the  walls  was  of  great 
extent ;  it  served  as  a  place  of  security  for  the  inhabitants  of 
the  surrounding  district,  and  sheltered  them,  their  cattle,  and 
their  corn  from  those  sudden  and  devastating  incursions  to 
which  they  were  incessantly  exposed.  It  was  defended  at  this 
time  by  Sir  WiUiam  Lisle  and  100  men.  Surrey,  in  a  fit  of 
impatience,  represents  it  as  untenable,  wishes  it  were  drowned 
in  the  sea,  for  no  garrison  would  stay  in  it.^  Like  similar 
forts   on  the  Borders,   it  was   strong   enough  to  resist   any 

»  IIL  3477.  IIL  3177. 

*  Hist,  of  Scot.,   ii.  228.     Surrey  »  jji^  3473. 

states   that   mauy  of   his   host  came  •*  III.  3499. 

over  the  Tweed,  but  he  was  afraid  '  IIL  3506. 
that  Albany  would  not  enter  England. 


558  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENEY   VIII.  [A.D. 

sudden  attack  of  moss  troopers,  but  not  to  stand  a  regular 
siege  ;  like  others  also,  its  defences  had  been  neglected,  and 
the  expense  of  keeping  them  in  repair  was  more  than  the 
fortress  was  worth. 

The  castle  stood  on  the  south  of  the  Tweed.  Albany- 
planted  his  artillery  on  the  north  bank  of  the  river.  After 
battering  the  walls  throughout  Sunday  and  Monday,  the  1st 
and  2nd  daj^s  of  November,  he  sent,  at  three  o'clock  of  the 
afternoon  of  the  2nd,  1,000  Frenchmen  ^  across  in  boats  to 
carry  the  place  by  assault.  The  besiegers  gained  the  outer 
court,  but  were  kept  at  bay  by  the  garrison  for  an  hour  and  a 
half.  Inch  by  inch  these  resolute  defenders  were  forced  back 
into  the  inner  ward.  But  here  numbers  proved  of  little 
advantage.  The  French,  repulsed  in  a  vigorous  sally,  were 
compelled  to  recross  the  river  with  the  loss  of  ten  men.  We 
know  so  little  of  the  real  state  of  Albany's  army,  or  the  diffi- 
culties which  he  had  to  encounter,  that  it  is  impossible  to  form 
a  fair  judgment  of  his  conduct  on  this  occasion,  or  divine  the 
reasons  why  he  failed  to  support  the  assault.  His  precipitate 
retreat,  which  looks  dastardly  at  least,  is  still  more  un- 
accountable. According  to  Surrey's  statement,  the  Duke  was 
terrified  on  hearing  of  his  advance  to  the  support  of  Wark, 
which  could  not  have  held  out  many  hours  longer.  But 
Surrey  admits  that  he  himself  experienced  the  greatest 
difficulty  in  keeping  his  own  army  together.  It  was  the 
foulest  and  coldest  weather  he  had  ever  seen.  Scarcity  of 
food,  long  exposure  to  the  cold,  the  horrors  of  winter,  had  so 
wearied  his  men,  according  to  his  own  statement,  that  it  would 
have  been  hard  for  him  to  have  prevented  their  dispersion. 
If  it  were  so  with  the  English,  well  supplied  and  supported  as 
they  were,  and  close  to  their  own  borders,  the  difficulty  must 
have  been  far  greater  with  the  Scots,  who  possessed  none  of 
these  advantages.  Surrey  either  overlooks  these  facts,  or  had 
no  interest  in  remembering  them.  And  so,  though  he  writes 
in  somewhat  boastful  terms  that  Albany  had  fled  like  a  coward 
when  he  "  came  to  present  him  battle,"  it  is  a  question  whether 
the  Earl  was  not  more  indebted  to  the  excessive  severity  of  the 
weather  for  his  victory,  than  to  his  own  courage  and  skill. 
As  a  matter  of  course,  he  received  the  King's  thanks  for  his 
"  great  travail,  labour,  study,  pain,  and  dihgence.   .  .   .  with 

'   Surrey    to    Henry    AHII. ;    III.        the  stateinent,  and  says  "above  ], 000 
3506.     He  says  2,000 ;  but  in  a  subse-       Frenchmen  and  500  Scots.' 
qaent  letter   (No.  3512)    he   qualifies 


1523.]  ALBANY  RETIRES.  559 

all  effect,  right  activelj^  valiantly,  and  with  perfect  courage, 
discretion,  and  good  conduct  taken  and  used,  by  many  sub- 
stantial, discreet,  and  politic  ways  for  resistance  of  the  said 
duke  of  Albany,"  ^  But  what  Wolsey  thought  in  the  inner- 
most core  of  his  heart  may  be  gathered  from  his  notes  on  one 
of  the  Earl's  dispatches.  The  result  was  no  more  than  he 
had  anticijDated.  He  had  warned  Surrey  that  the  Duke  would 
never  enter  England ;  that  the  invasion  had  been  more  in 
show  than  reality ;  that  Albany's  aim  was  to  tire  out  his 
oj^ponents,  and  seize  his  advantage  when  the  English  troops 
were  disbanded.  Wolsey's  calculations  proved  correct,^  and 
he  did  not  easily  forgive  the  Earl  for  the  enormous  expense  to 
which  the  country  had  been  subjected  by  superfluous  levies. 
He  thought  that  both  men  and  money  might  have  been  spared 
by  the  exercise  of  more  care  and  foresight. 

But  whatever  might  be  the  motive  or  the  cause  of  Albany's 
retreat,  it  wore  the  aspect  of  a  most  ignominious  flight.  He 
had  decamped  from  the  abbey  of  Eccles  on  Tuesday  at  mid- 
night. If  we  may  believe  an  anecdote  preserved  in  a  letter  of 
Surrey  to  Wolse}^,  as  the  Duke  was  mounting  his  horse  pre- 
paratory to  his  departure,  the  gentlemen  of  Teviotdale 
remonstrated  with  him  on  his  dastardly  conduct.  "  My  lord 
governor,"  they  exclaimed,  "ye  have  remained  in  our  Borders 
a  long  season,  so  that  all  that  the  earl  of  Surrey  hath  left  un- 
destroyed,  ye  and  your  company  have  clearly  wasted  (this 
was  scarcely  true),  and  by  the  said  Earl  our  Border  is  for 
ever  undone  ;  and  ye  promised  us  to  give  him  battle,  whereby 
we  might  recover  us.  .  .  .  AVherefore  we  beseech  you  to  abide 
and  give  him  battle  as  ye  have  promised."  The  Duke  replied 
angrily,  "  I  will  give  him  no  battle,  for  I  have  no  convenient 
company  so  to  do  ;  "  and  immediately  galloped  off.  Hearing 
these  words  the  said  gentlemen,  being  evil  contented,  exclaimed 
with  one  voice,  "  By  God's  blood  we  will  never  serve  you  more, 
nor  never  will  wear  your  badges  again;  "  and,  tearing  them 
off  their  breasts,  they  threw  them  on  the  ground,  saying, 
"  Would  to  God  we  were  all  sworn  English  ;  "  and  so  departed 
from  the  Duke  in  great  anger.'^ 

Perhaps  Surrey  was  not  far  wrong  in  his  surmise  that 
Albany's  estimation  in  Scotland  had  sunk  for  ever.  And  yet 
even  on  that  point  we  must  reserve  our  judgment.  It  is 
certain  that  his  retreat  did  not  produce  in  Edinburgh  the 
profound  impression  that  might  have  been  expected.  Margaret, 

'  III.  3531.  2  111.3477.  '  III.  3512. 


560  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   YIII.  [A.D. 

indeed,  calls  it  an  "  unhonest  journey,"  and  states  that  she 
had  not  seen  the  Duke  since  his  return  ;  but  it  is  clear  she 
had  not  gained  but  rather  lost  influence,^  and  that  the  Scotch 
lords  remained  as  firmly  attached  to  Albany  as  before.  The 
Duke,  seeing  his  total  inability  to  bring  matters  into  a  better 
condition,  resolved  to  turn  his  back  upon  Scotland  for  ever, 
and  desired  leave  of  the  lords  to  depart.  They  earnestly 
endeavoured  to  dissuade  him  from  his  purpose ;  offered  him 
the  profits  of  all  spiritual  benefices  in  Scotland,  with  then- 
goods  and  services  to  be  at  his  disposal.  Such  proofs  of  their 
regard,  coming  from  such  a  quarter,  must  be  regarded  as 
above  suspicion,  and  tend  much  to  qualify  the  unfavourable 
impressions  of  Albany's  incapacity  and  cowardice.  Except 
his  belief  that  Arran,  Lennox,  and  others,  would  not  have 
followed  him  into  England,  but  have  betrayed  him  to  his 
enemies,  Albany  volunteered  no  explanation  of  his  conduct — • 
at  least,  this  is  Margaret's  statement— and  yet  we  find  on  the 
same  authority  that  Arran  as  well  as  Argyle,  contrary  to  her 
expectations,  had  gone  over  to  the  Duke  on  his  return  to 
Edinburgh,  and  were  among  the  number  of  those  who  were 
most  anxious  to  detain  him.^ 

This  flight  of  the  doughty  Duke  of  Albany  furnished  the 
contemporary  English  satirist  with  a  subject  for  one  of  his 
most  popular  poems,  and  afforded  him  an  opportunity  of 
glorifying  his  patron,  the  Earl  of  Surrey.  Skelton's  verses 
are  of  no  value,  except  as  expressing  the  sort  of  feeling  with 
which  Englishmen  in  general  hailed  the  ignominious  defeat 
of  one  who  had  been  so  long  identified  with  the  enemies  of 
their  country.  When  the  hearts  of  the  two  nations,  in  their 
long  and  obstinate  struggle,  had  been  filled  with  inconceivable 
bitterness  and  mutual  animosity,  such  lines  as  the  following, 
repeated  in  every  nook  of  every  shire  in  England,  served  well 
enough  to  foment  and  represent  their  national  antipathies. 

"  Rejoice,  England, 
And  understand 
These  tidings  new, 
WHiich  be  as  true 
As  the  Gospel. 
This  duke  so  fell 
Of  Albany, 
So  cowardly, 
AVith  all  his  host 
Of  the  Scottish  coast, 

^  See  III.  3643. 

*  TIT.  36i3.     And  this  is  admitted  by  Surrey  j  No.  3576. 


1523.]  POPULAE   CONTEMPT   OF   THE   SCOTS.  561 

For  all  their  boast, 
Fled  like  a  beast. 

*  *  * 

Dunbar,  Dundee, 
Ye  shall  trow  me. 
False  Scots  are  ye  : 
Your  hearts  sore  fainted, 
And  sore  attainted. 
Like  cowards  stark, 
At  the  castle  of  Wark, 
By  the  water  of  Tweed, 
Ye  had  evil  speed. 
Like  cankered  curs. 
Ye  lost  your  spurs. 
For  in  that  fray 
Ye  ran  away, 
With  hey  dog,  hey  ! 
For  Sir  WilUam  Lysle 
Within  short  while, 
That  valiant  knight  ! 
Put  you  to  flight, 
With  his  valiaunce. 
Two  thousand  of  France 
Then  he  put  back, 
To  your  great  lack, 
And  utter  shame 
Of  your  Scottish  name. 

Your  chief  cliieftain, 
Void  of  all  brain, 
Duke  of  Albany, 
Then  shamefully 
He  reculed  back 
To  his  great  lack  ; 
When  he  heard  tell, 
That  my  lord  Amrell  ^ 
Was  coming  down 
To  make  him  froAvn. 

*  *  * 

Like  a  coward  knight, 

He  fled  and  durst  not  fight  ; 

He  ran  away  by  night. " 

In  this  multitudinous  jingle  the  poem  runs  on  ;  incor- 
porating in  its  doggrel  all  the  popular  prejudices  against 
Albany  and  the  Scots,  which  the  statesmen  of  the  time, 
though  fully  aware  of  their  falsehood,  never  scrupled  to  employ 
in  a  more  serious  style  whenever  it  suited  their  purposes.  In 
fact,  Skelton's  verses  are  no  more  than  the  popular  refrain  of 
arguments  gravely  set  forth  in  royal  speeches  and  ministerial 
manifestoes,  whenever  Scotland  or  the  Duke  of  Albany  formed 
the  subject  of  remonstrance.  Here  is  to  be  found  the  calumny, 
so   industriously  repeated   by   Dacre   and   Surrey,   that   the 

'  Surrey,  Lord  Uigh  Admiral. 
VOL.  I.  2    0 


562  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIH.  [AD. 

patriotism  of  the  Duke  was  only  a  cloak  for  his  OM'n  ambition. 
Thus,  addressing  Albany,  Skelton  says  : — 

"  Ye  lire  tend 
For  to  defend 
The  young  Scottisli  king  ; 
But  ye  mean  a  thing, 
An'  ye  could  bring 
The  matter  about, 
To  jiut  his  eyes  out,^ 
And  put  him  down, 
And  set  his  crown 
On  your  own  head, 
When  he  were  dead. " 

Here,  also,  is  that  ancient  English  taunt  of  the  falsehood, 
the  pride,  and  the  poverty  of  the  Scotch  ;  their  unnatural 
alliance  with  France ;  their  malicious  support  of  an  exiled 
pretender  to  the  throne  of  England.  Here,  too,  is  the  old 
boast  that  they  should  one  day  be  driven  from  their  country. 
For,  says  Skelton,  in  this  more  of  a  poet  than  a  prophet — 

"  I  rede  you  look  about, 
For  ye  shall  be  driven  out 
Of  your  own  land  in  short  space. 
We  will  so  follow  in  the  chace 
That  ye  shall  have  no  grace 
For  to  turn  your  face." 

Such  wars  as  these  could  not  fail  of  producing  deep  and 
permanent  effects.  But,  disastrous  as  they  were  at  the  time, 
they  were  not  wholly  without  their  advantage  to  both  people. 
They  tended  to  consolidate  England  more  thoroughly,  and  to 
bring  out  the  energies  of  the  Scots.  The  Northern  provinces, 
too  frequently  inclined  to  forget  their  allegiance  and  fly  off  from 
the  Southern,  were  hurled  back  from  the  rocky  barriers  of 
Scotland,  where  every  foot  of  land  was  bristling  with  rugged 
and  determined  foes,  and  compelled  to  make  common  cause 
with  their  southern  countrymen.  The  result  would  have 
been  far  otherwise  had  Scotland  been  peopled  by  a  tamer 
race,  or  one  less  jealous  of  its  independence ;  whilst,  for  this 
country  generally,  the  incessant  activity  of  the  Scotch,  their 
close  alliance  with  France,  their  readiness  to  take  advantage 
of  every  incautious  or  disloyal  movement  in  England,  drew 
Enghshmen  closer  round  their  national  sovereign ;  in  Skelton's 
doggrel— 

'  Alluding,  probably,  to  the  treatment  of  Prince  Arthur  by  his  unnatural 
uncle. 


1523.]  EFFECT   OF   THE   BOEDER   WARS.  563 

"At  all  hours  to  be  ready 
With  liim  to  Uve  and  die. " 

And  this  was  an  advantage  which,  derived  by  the  Tudors 
from  Scotch  hostility,  was  lost  to  kings  of  the  next  generation. 
Nothing  more  was  required  to  render  the  cause  of  any  pre- 
tender to  the  crown  desperate  than  to  find  his  cause  supported 
by  the  Scotch.  Nothing  tended  more  to  enhance  the  fading 
popularity  of  an  English  sovereign  than  to  see  his  rival 
accepted  on  the  other  side  of  the  Tweed.  If  the  claims  of  the 
exiled  De  la  Pole  had  ever  any  chance  of  being  realized,  the 
moment  they  were  supported  by  Albany  and  his  people  they 
became  utterly  desperate. 

As  to  other  effects,  Southern  men  might  laugh  at  the 
heroic  courage  of  the  Scots,  and  treat  the  stories  told  of  them 
with  incredulity.  To  the  tame  dwellers  on  the  banks  of  the 
Thames,  the  ardent  and  romantic  heroism  of  Scotch  and 
Border  knights,  fostered  by  their  peculiar  wars,  seemed  little 
better  than  bombast  and  extravagance.  But  these  incessant 
alarms,  these  raids  by  moonlight,  must  have  produced  deep 
and  lasting  impressions  on  the  character  and  imaginations  of 
the  denizens  of  the  Northern  marches.  Inroads  into  a  hostile 
country,  not  in  broad  day,  when  everything  is  seen  in  its  true 
colours,  and  surprise  is  hardly  possible,  but  in  the  dim  un- 
certain light  of  the  moon,  when  every  shadow  is  exaggerated, 
every  crag,  bush,  and  hollow  is  peopled  by  the  imagination 
with  deadly  foes,  and  every  footfall  gives  back  its  echo  near 
and  far,  must  often  have  blanched  the  lips,  if  only  for  a 
moment,  and  curdled  the  blood  of  the  boldest.^  The  desola- 
tion of  these  barren  moors,  the  dismantled  ruins,  the  blackened 
huts,  the  mouldering  ruins  of  former  slaughter ;  the  spirits  of 
vengeance  still  lurking  in  their  ancient  haunts,  demanding  blood 
for  blood ;  the  bleak  and  moaning  sounds,  the  unearthly  noises  ; 
and  more,  the  stern  conviction  that  an  implacable  enemy  was 
waiting  for  his  revenge,  would  have  it  at  any  cost,  but  when 

'  There  seems   to   be   a   peculiar  raids  by  moonlight  in  which  he  had 

beauty  and  aptitude  in  the  words  put  so   often   taken   part.     Like   men   of 

by    Shakespeare    into    the    mouth    of  passionate    sensibility,   he    is    carried 

Hotspur,  that  perfect  ideal  of  a  Border  into  a  trance,  into  the  dreamland  of 

chief  : —  bygone    days  and   familiar    thoughts, 

,,  T,      TT  I  ii  •   ,       -,  by  the  vividness  of  his  imagination. 

"By  HeavenJ   methinks   it  were  an       j/^   .^  ^j.  ^^^^  j^^^^  ^^^,^^ .    ^^^j    ^,,^ 

easy   eap,  whole    speech,    incongruous    and    ex- 
To    pluck    bnght    honor    from    the  travagant   in   any  other  man,  is  ex- 
pale-faced  moon.  quisilcly  beautiful  and  natural  in  hi.u. 
He   is  thinking    of   those   Border 


5)4  THE   REIGN   OF   HENEY   VIII.  [A.D.  1523. 

and  at  what  moment  no  one  could  anticipate  ; — all  these  must 
have  acted  as  potent  spells  upon  the  minds  of  men.  Such 
vague  and  terrible  apprehensions,  the  more  terrible  because 
of  their  vagueness,  no  valour  could  wholly  surmount,  no 
resolution  could  entirely  resist.  The  spirits  of  men  might  be 
set  in  an  iron  frame,  Hke  Caere's;  they  might  be  as  iron 
itself;  but  they  must  have  been  more  than  human  to  resist 
the  incessant  throbs  of  contagious  sympathy  occasioned  by 
such  occupations.  In  the  fierce  raid  on  Jedburgh,  already 
noticed,  when  a  panic  seized  the  horses,  Surrey  tells  Wolsey, 
"  I  dare  not  write  the  wonders  that  my  lord  Dacre  and  all  his 
company  do  say  they  saw  that  night,  six  times,  of  spirits  and 
fearful  sights.  And  universally,  all  their  company  say  plainly, 
the  devil  was  that  night  among  them  six  times."  Who  shall 
paint  the  effects  of  that  strange  gaunt  scenery,  more  wild  and 
drear  by  the  misery  and  oppression  of  its  population,  haunted 
by  reckless  men  and  starving  women,  who  lurked  among  the 
ruins  of  theii"  smoking  cabins  and  charred  corn  crops,  steeped 
to  the  lips  in  suffering,  and  started  up  at  unexpected  turns 
like  spectral  forms  ?  Out  of  the  wretchedness  and  desolation 
caused  by  his  own  hands,  the  invader  shaped  for  himself 
imaginary  terrors,  which  like  the  centaur's  robe,  could  never 
be  shaken  off",  but  clave  and  ate  to  the  bone. 


(     565     ) 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DEATH    OF   ADRIAN   VI. SIEGE    OF   RHODES. 

Whilst  these  wars  were  going  on  between  the  two  countries, 
died  Adrian  YI.,  on  the  14th  of  September,  1523.  Ilis  death, 
Hke  the  deaths  of  popes  in  general,  was  assigned  to  various 
causes.  Peter  Martyr  has  preserved  in  his  gossiping  letters 
the  contradictory  rumours  of  the  day  :  some  said  he  died  of 
an  affection  in  the  throat,  brought  on  by  uncovering  his  head 
at  a  religious  service  ;  others  that  he  indulged  too  freely  at 
an  entertainment  given  by  Cardinal  Santa  Croce.  Ciaconius 
attributes  his  end  to  his  indulgence  in  Flemish  beer.  As 
Peter  Martyr  was  in  Spain  at  the  time,  he  merely  re-echoes 
the  Spanish  reports ;  and,  like  Spanish  reports  in  general, 
these  flying  rumours  deserve  small  credit,  for  Adrian,  a 
Fleming  by  birth,  was  never  popular  with  the  Spaniards.  If 
the  Flemings  hated  the  Spaniards,  their  hate  was  returned 
with  additional  haughtiness  and  contempt.  Moreover,  Adrian, 
ungrateful  to  those  to  whom  he  was  indebted  for  his  exalta- 
tion, had  shown  but  small  compliance  with  the  wishes  of 
Charles  or  his  ministers — a  crime  the  more  heinous  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Spaniards,  as  he  had  formerly  been  the  Emperor's 
tutor.  A  much  more  affecting  and  truthful  account  of  his 
last  illness  is  given  in  the  letters  sent  to  Wolsey  by  Clerk  and 
Hannibal  from  Piome.  His  sickness  had  been  of  some  dura- 
tion ;  according  to  Ortis,  of  no  less  than  forty  days.^  He  was 
attacked  in  August,^  says  Clerk,  and  was  confined  to  his  room, 
seldom  giving  audience,  except  once  or  twice  to  the  Cardinal 

•  According      to      Ortiz,      whose  throat,  and  for  some  days  prevented 

authority  is  not  to  be  disputed,  Adrian  him   from    swallowing.     Driven  from 

was   invited  to   an  entertainment   by  the  throat  by  the  force  of  medicines, 

Beraardino  de   Carvajal,    Cardinal  of  it  attacked  tlie  kidneys,  and  rcmnined 

y.  Croce.     He  was  taken  ill  the  same  there,  defying  all  remedies  for  thirty 

night,  and  could  drink  nothing.     On  days  until  the  Pope  died, 
returning  to  the  Vatican,  the  physicians  ^  The  precise  date  is  unfortunately 

treated    his    complaint    as    a    catarrh  lost  in  consequence  of  the  mutilation 

which  had  prodnced  ulceration  in  the  of  the  letter, 
palate.     The   ulcer   extended    to   the 


566  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

De  Medici,  who  appears  to  have  ingratiated  himself  with  the 
Pope  after  the  disgrace  of  Soderini,  and  to  the  Emperor's 
ambassador,  the  Duke  of  Sessa,  whose  contemptuous  and 
imperious  treatment  were  sufficient,  without  any  other  cause, 
to  have  tormented  a  weaker  man  than  Adrian  VI.  out  of 
his  hfe. 

According  to  Clerk,^  the  Pope  suffered  from  continual 
pains  in  the  reins  and  bladder.  As  he  could  obtain  no  relief, 
and  was  greatly  weakened,  though  otherwise  a  hale  and  lusty 
man,^  he  called  the  cardinals  together,  sitting  up  in  his  bed, 
on  the  8th  of  September,  "  and  there  declared  unto  them 
what  thorough  his  age  and  sore  vexation  of  his  disease,  which 
still  continued,  he  thought  he  should  depart  to  the  mercy  of 
God."  He  desired  the  consent  of  their  eminences  to  his  pro- 
posed distribution  of  certain  ecclesiastical  dignities ;  among 
others,  of  a  cardinal's  hat  to  his  countryman,  William 
Enkenvoert,  Bishop  of  Tortosa,  his  Datary,  as  a  reward  for 
his  good  and  faithful  services.  Of  all  the  ecclesiastics  by 
whom  the  Pope  was  surrounded,  Enkenvoert  alone  enjoyed  his 
confidence.  As  Adrian  w^as  not  easy  of  access,  and  showed 
little  esteem  for  the  Pioman  cardinals,  treating  them  with  an 
austerity  to  which  they  were  unaccustomed,  it  is  not  surprising 
that  they  attributed  this  treatment  to  the  hostile  influence  of 
his  confidential  and  favourite  minister.^ 

The  cardinals  expressed  no  small  concern  at  the  Pope's 
proposal.  To  divert  him  at  once  from  his  resolution,  and  the 
cardinal's  hat  from  the  unpopular  Datary,  they  urged  upon 
his  Holiness,  that  if  it  were  essential  to  his  happiness  in  his 
dying  hour  to  give  away  cardinals'  hats,  he  had  better  confer 
this  honour  on  one  of  his  nephews ;  for  the  Datary,  they  said, 
had  in  all  his  transactions  been  uncivil,  exacting,  stern,  and 
disobliging.  The  Pope  was  too  fatigued  and  faint  to  continue 
the  discussion.  He  swooned  once  or  twice  the  night  follow- 
ing, and  never  afterwards  rallied. 

His  death  was  received  with  little  demonstration  of  con- 

'   III.  3331.  must  not  be   received  with  too    im- 

2   See  III.  p.  1167.  plicit    a    confidence.     The    Pope   was 

'  Mr.  Bergenroth  (Spanish  Calen-  in  bad  odonr  with  Don  Manuel;    the 

dar,    vol.    ii.,    pref.    p.    cxli.-ii.)    has  Duke  of  Sessa  inherited  the  prejudices 

referred    to    rumours,    circulated    by  of  his  predecessor,  apparently  for  no 

the     Spanish     ministers,     far     from  other    reason    than   the  resolution  of 

favonrable    to    the    character    of    the  Adrian  not  to  be  the  tool  of  imperial 

Datary.     He  is  represented  by  them,  dictation.     In  angry  retaliation,  they 

especially   in  the  despatches  of   the  did  not  scruple  to  represent  the  Pope 

Duke  of   Sessa,  as  avaricious,  grasp-  and  his  ministers  to  Charles  V.  in  the 

inf{,    and   amorous.      These   accounts  most  unfavourable  colours. 


1523.]  DEATH    OF   ADRIAN   VI.  567 

cern.  Perhaps  no  Pope  had  for  many  years  heen  less  popuhir. 
His  manifest  incapacity  for  the  duties  of  his  exalted  station, 
the  simplicity,  not  to  say  hluntness,  of  his  manners,  were  not 
adequately  relieved  by  any  great  qualities  of  genius  or  exhibi- 
tion of  administrative  skill.  He  had  no  taste  for  painting  or 
sculptm-e,  and  little  for  literature  ;  ^  still  less  for  that  literature 
which  was  in  itself  a  power,  and  had  been  a  very  effective 
instrument  in  the  hands  of  his  predecessor,  whose  defects  as  a 
man  and  a  ruler  were  in  a  great  measure  concealed  by  his 
patronage  of  learnmg  and  the  fine  arts.  The  habits  of  Adrian 
were  as  simple  as  his  tastes.  At  the  time  of  his  birth  and  his 
education,  polite  learning  had  not  j^et  penetrated  into  Belgium.^ 
Brought  up  in  the  old  school  of  scholastic  theology,  he  was 
indebted  for  the  little  eminence  he  had  gained  in  his  own 
country  to  that  learning,  which  had  ceased  to  command 
respect  at  Eome,  and  was  now  regarded  with  disdain  by  those 
who  considered  the  professors  of  it  a  little  better  than  bar- 
barians, utterly  behind  the  age,  and  unfitted  for  polite  and 
classical  society.  A  monk,  or  a  schoolman,  trained  in  the 
uncouth  habits  of  the  previous  century,  was  a  phenomenon  to 
these  fastidious  Italians ;  he  was  regarded  with  something  of 
that  wonder,  not  unalloyed  with  contempt,  with  which  their 
forefathers  might  have  stared  at  some  savage  animal  or 
untutored  Goth  who  had  strayed  unawares  into  the  marble 
halls  and  ivory  palaces  of  the  Csesars.  Nor  had  Adrian  taken 
any  pains  to  render  himself  agreeable  to  the  cardinals  by 
conciliating  their  prejudices.  He  rarely  Consulted  them  on 
matters  of  moment.  He  treated  them  not  unfrequently  with 
positive  rudeness.  When,  after  many  months  of  expectation, 
he  had  reached  Leghorn  on  his  first  journey  to  Piome,'^  and 

'  To  Cardinal  Sadoleti  and  other  says  Negro,  who  retails  these  stories, 

professors  of  the  new  learning  Adrian  he  will  take  a  lesson  from   Gregory, 

gave     great     offence     by     the     con-  and  grind  these  statues,  the  lasting 

temptuous  tone  in  which  he  spoke  of  memorials  of  the  greatness  and  the 

the    Ciceronians.      Reading    on    one  glory  of  the  Romans,  into  mortar  for 

occasion  certain  elegant  Latin  letters,  building    the    church    of    St.    Peter, 

an    accomplishment    on   which    these  March  17,  1523. 

Italians  prided  themselves  excessively,  ^  "This  pope,"  says  Negro,  "has 

he  remarked,  Sunt  litterce  unius  poetae  a  pleasing  countenance,   mixed  with 

— i.e.  these  are  the  letters  of  a  "  metre-  gravity.     He  appears  to  be  sixty  at 

ballad  monger,"  a  remark  more  just  most,  though  some  say  he   is  sixty- 

than    complimentary.       On     another  four.       He    always    speaks    Latin — 

occasion,    when    the    Laocoon    in   the  passably  well  for  a  foreigner  (compor- 

Belvedere  was  pointed  out  to  hiiu  as  tdbilmente).     Letter  to  Micheli,  Sept. 

the    most    excellent    and    wonderful  1,  1522. 

statue  in  the  world,  he  coldly  observed,  ^  He    was    elected    Jan.    9,    1522 

Hunt   idola   urttiquorum.      I  suppose,  (Clerk's  letter,   111.  19G0,  and  Cum- 


568 


TPIE   REIGN   OF   HENllY   VIII. 


[A.D. 


was  met  in  great  pomp  by  the  cardinals  and  Italian  ambas- 
sadors, amid  the  shouts  of  the  people  and  the  firing  of  guns, 
lie  scarcely  deigned  to  acknowledge  their  courtesies  with  a 
smile.  Their  munificent  offerings,  their  presents  of  fruit  and 
wine,  were  coldly  accepted.  That  night  he  chose  to  sup  alone, 
and  after  supper  he  left  his  chamber  with  so  much  precipita- 
tion that  the  cardinals  in  the  neighbouring  apartment  had  no 
notice  of  his  departure.  At  Ostia  his  steps  were  equally  rapid 
and  undignified.  Cardinals,  noblemen,  ecclesiastics,  and 
ambassadors  were  hurled  along  in  the  impetuous  stream  of  a 
rude  and  vulgar  mob,  mounted  on  sorry  nags  and  mules, 
packed  up  as  occasion  served,  broiling  and  panting  amidst 
porters,  grooms,  and  baggage  drivers,  under  the  cloudless  rays 
of  an  Italian  autumnal  sun. 

His  first  act  after  the  day  of  his  coronation  was  not  less 
impolitic  than  ungracious.  He  revoked  all  the  indulgences 
{indidta)  which  had  been  granted  by  the  cardinals  from  the 
24th  of  January,  when  his  election  was  notified,  to  the  day  of 
his  arrival  in  Eome.  He  reduced  the  referendaries  of  the 
Papal  court  at  a  stroke  from  thh'ty  to  eight,  allowing  these 
disappointed  holders  of  place  no  compensation.  As  they  had 
purchased  their  ofiices  under  the  previous  Pope,  on  the  under- 
standing that  they  should  be  permanent,  Adrian  incurred 
greater  odium  and  opposition  by  his  financial  reforms  than  all 
such  reforms  are  worth. ^  A  simple-minded  Fleming,  in- 
capable of  counteracting  the  intrigues  of  the  sharp  and  wily 
Italians  by  whom  he  was  surrounded,  guided  by  Flemish 
ministers  of  low  birth,  unaccustomed  to  business,  and  sus- 
picious of  being  imposed  upon,  but  unable  through  want  of 
firmness  or  genius  to  avoid  it,  Adrian  suffered  the  business  of 
the  Papal  court  to  drift  into  inextricable  confusion.  Pressed 
on  all  sides  by  impatient  and  importunate  suitors,  anxious  to 
do  right,  fearful  of  committing  himself,  unskilled  in  the 
tortuous  processes  of  the  Pioman  Chancery,  he  could  only 
reiterate,  in  the  midst  of  his  perplexities,  Co<jitahimus,  vide- 


}3eggio,  1945),  and  did  not  reach 
Home  until  the  29th  of  Aug.  See  the 
Jetter  of  Hannibal,  who  attended  him  ; 
No.  2521.  Wingfield  says  31st,  but 
that  is    a  mistake.     No.  254'7. 

^  Negro  has  preserved  another 
instance  of  his  financial  reforms. 
Shortly  after  his  arrival  at  Eome,  the 
Palefrenieri  (guards)  of  the  late  Pope 
sent   a   deputation   to   Adrian.      The 


Pope  asked,  v^hat  was  their  number 
under  Leo  X.  They  replied,  a  hundred. 
Crossing  himself,  in  his  astonishment 
at  such  extravagance,  Adrian  told 
them  that  four  would  be  amply  suffi- 
cient for  himself;  however,  that  he 
might  not  have  less  than  the  cardinals, 
he  consented  to  retain  twelve  of  them 
in  his  service. — Ibid. 


1523.]     CHAEACTER  AND  AD]\riNISTEATIOX  OF  ADRIAN  VI.     569 

limns,  and  refer  the  baffled  petitioner  to  bis  secretary,  or  the 
auditor  of  the  treasury.  These  officers,  minute  and  excessive 
in  their  dihgence,  but  wanting  in  tact,  genius,  or  experience, 
confused  themselves  with  an  endless  multiplicity  of  small 
details.  More  and  more  entangled  at  ever}'^  fresh  step  in  the 
labyrinth,  irresolute,  despairing  of  any  just  or  satisfactory 
result,  they  could  do  nothing  else  in  their  perplexity  than 
refer  the  disappointed  suitor  back  to  the  Pope,  who  received 
him  with  his  usual  dignified  smile,  and  obsequious  maxim, 
Cogitahimus,  vidchimus.  "Your  holiness,"  said  Balbi,  the 
Austrian  envoy,  on  one  of  these  occasions,  "  Fabius  saved 
Eome  by  delay,  and  you  by  the  same  process  are  destroying 
it." 

To  increase  Adrian's  troubles,  the  long  period  which  had 
elapsed  between  his  election  and  coronation  had  not  been 
favourable  to  habits  of  order  and  of  good  government.  A 
plague  devastated  Eome,  and  carried  off  28,000  of  its  in- 
habitants ^  within  three  months  after  his  arrival.  Adrian  was 
urged  to  fly :  with  a  firmness  becoming  the  occasion  and  his 
exalted  position,  he  determined  to  remain.  But  the  reputation 
he  might  otherwise  have  gained  by  such  an  heroic  resolution 
was  lost  either  by  his  inactivity,  or  his  inability  to  find  means 
for  staying  the  plague  or  alleviating  the  distress  of  his  people. 
To  have  expected  from  him  effectual  sanitary  precautions  in 
such  a  distressing  emergency  would  imply  a  total  ignorance 
of  the  scientific  resources  of  the  16th  century,  whether  in 
Eome  or  in  England.  But,  lacking  these,  there  was  always 
the  devout  heroism  of  a  Borromeo  to  fall  back  upon,  and  men 
might  believe  and  grow  strong  in  the  efficacy  of  i^raj^ers,  who 
desjDaired  of  medical  remedies,  or  disbelieved  in  the  virtues  of 
medical  science.  But  Adrian's  heroism  was  not  of  this  exalted 
kind.  It  was  rather  passive  than  active ;  he  shut  himself  up 
in  the  Vatican  with  Enkenvoert,  his  Batary,  and  the  secretary 
Hezius  ;  rarely,  if  ever,  coming  abroad ;  beguiling  the  tedious 
hours  with  reading,  writing,  alchemy,  and  gardening.'^ 

'  III.  2714.    It  appears  by  a  letter  that  henceforth  it  shall  be  shut  up, 

from  the  Duke  of  Sessa,  Oct.  31,  that  and  not  exposed  to  the  view  of  the 

the  number  of  deaths  exceeded  150  a  public    (April   14,    1522).     Whilst  at 

day.  Rome  the  Pope's  life  was  too  much 

*  His  Holiness,  says  Negro,  sings  that  of  a  recluse;  admirably  adapled 

mass  every  morning  at  daybreak,  and  to  tlie  cloister,  unfitted  for  the  duties 

takes    great    pleasure    in    gardening.  of  a  sovereign  pontiff.     He  rose  long 

For  this  reason  he  has  procured  in-  before  daybreak  to  say  his  olllces,  aud 

formation    of    the    Belvedere,   saying  returned    to    his    couch    until    dawn, 

that  he  will  have  it  so  well  enclosed  He    then   celebrated   mass,  aud   con- 


570  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENEY   VIII.  U.D. 

But  the  tlioiight  which  weighed  down  his  mind  and 
crippled  his  energies,  from  the  first  hour  he  had  accepted  the 
pontificate  to  the  last,  was  the  state  of  the  public  finances. 
Leo  X.,  if  Hannibal  may  be  trusted,  had  left  a  debt  of  little 
less  than  a  million  to  his  anxious  successor.^  It  was  the  first 
impulse  of  Adrian,  like  that  of  many  others  in  similar  circum- 
stances, to  relieve  his  immediate  necessities  by  borrowing 
money  from  England.  "  Leo  X.,"  writes  Hannibal  on  the  8th 
of  September,'-^  "  has  left  the  present  Pope  700,000  ducats  in 
debt,  and  his  voyage  has  been  costly."  He  had  already  applied 
for  a  loan  of  40,000  or  50,000  ducats.  "I  think,"  says 
Hannibal,  "  25,000  will  content  him."  The  application  was 
not  favourably  received.  The  same  writer  complains  that  he 
had  written  many  times  of  the  Pope's  necessities,  but  could 
obtain  no  answer.^  England  was  at  that  time  in  no  condition 
to  lend  money  ;  its  treasury  was  exhausted  by  the  personal 
extravagance  of  the  King,  by  the  fetes  at  Guisnes  and  Calais, 
by  the  mission  of  Wolsey  to  settle  the  disputes  between 
Francis  and  the  Emperor,  and  by  the  necessary  preparations 
for  war  with  France  and  Scotland.  Under  Leo  X.  many  of 
the  cardinals  had  crippled  their  property  by  purchasing  their 
dignities.  But  if  it  had  been  otherwise,  Adrian  was  not 
sufficiently  gracious  to  induce  them  to  make  sacrifices  in  his 
behalf.  Baffled,  soured,  disappointed,  pressed  by  an  evil  fatal 
to  his  popularity — at  Eome  especially — no  course  remained 
for  the  unhappy  Pontiff,  except  either  to  curtail  the  expenses 
of  the  State,  by  forbearing  to  take  part  in  any  measures  which 
required  money,  or  to  impose  a  tax  on  his  reluctant  subjects. 
He  attempted  both,  and  consequently  offended  all. 

During  his  pontificate,  Ehodes,  the  most  distant  outwork 
of  Christendom,  was  exposed  to  the  greatest  peril  from  the 
Turk.  We,  indeed,  have  lived  to  see  PJiodes  in  the  hands  of 
the  enemies  of  the  Cross  for  many  centuries,  and  Christendom 
as  vigorous  as  ever.  But  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing 
it  was  the  firm  conviction  of  more  than  half  the  Christian 
world  that  if  Ehodes  fell,  Eome  and  the  rest  of  Christendom 

tinned  some  time  in  prayer.     At  his  prayers,  dejeuner,  siesta,  study,  read, 

audiences,  of  which  he  was  chary,  in  ing  of  offices,  supper,  the  whole  day 

consequence    of   his   natural  timidity  is   consumed,  and  very  little  time   is 

and  inexperience,  his  first  and  habitual  left  for  giving  audience." — Relazioni, 

answer  was,  Videhimus.      Part  of  the  etc.,  Alberi,  2ud  Series,  iii.  p.  112. 
day  was   given   up   to    reading    and  '  III.  2559. 

study.     "  The  fact  is,"  say  the  Vene-  ^  jjj  2521. 

tian  envoys,  from  whom  these  details  '  III.  2539. 

are  taken,  "  that  what  with  masses, 


1523.]  ADRIAN'S   POVERTY   AND   HELPLESSNESS.  571 

must  fall  with  it ;  for  the  barrier  against  the  heady  flood  of 
Mahomedanism  would  be  broken  down,  and  there  would  be 
nothing  to  resist  its  progress.  Adrian  told  Hannibal,  the 
English  ambassador,  that  he  wrote  the  oftener  and  more 
urgently  to  Christian  princes  for  peace,  because  of  the  danger 
of  Ehodes  ;  "  for  if  that  island  were  taken,  the  Pope  could  not 
stay  in  Eome,  nor  could  any  prince  be  in  tranquillity,  as 
Ehodes  was  the  key  of  Christendom."  ^  He  shed  tears  at  the 
dangers  and  miseries  of  these  heroic  defenders  of  the  Faith, 
betrayed  by  the  indifference  and  faithlessness  of  their  brethren, 
and  isolated  from  the  rest  of  the  civilized  world.  At  the 
reports  of  their  courage  and  intrepidity,  unparalleled  in  the 
annals  of  war,  "his  bowels  were  moved  by  the  strength  of  his 
emotions,"  to  use  his  own  words. ^  He  could  not  suppress  his 
grief  whenever  the  siege  was  mentioned,  et  dum  Jit  sermo  de 
oppugnatione  ilUiis,  o'limjnuit  lacJiryincc,^  says  Hannibal,  an 
eyewitness  of  his  affliction.  When  the  news  was  at  last 
brought  him  of  the  surrender,  he  stood  for  a  time,  silent  and 
immovable  ;  the  profoundest  sighs  burst  from  his  heart  during 
the  sad  recital,  and  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  ground  without 
uttering  a  single  word.''  To  his  appeals  for  aid  Christian 
j)rinces  had  turned  a  deaf  ear  and  returned  a  flinty  answer ; 
not  wholly  from  insensibility,  partly,  indeed,  from  incredulity. 
Their  charity,  so  frequently  open  to  the  same  cry,  had  now 
ceased  to  flow.  But  partly  also,  in  the  attraction  of  more 
engrossing  interests  at  home,  they  felt  comparative  indifference 
to  the  fate  of  Ehodes.  The  idea  of  a  common  Christendom 
itself  was  beginning  to  pale  and  wane  before  the  more  power- 
ful realities  of  the  rising  nationalities  of  Europe.  Beautiful 
as  a  theory,  it  had  ceased  to  be  anything  better  than  a 
theory;  and  men  cannot  live  and  wax  strong  on  theories, 
however  beautiful.  So  the  voice  of  the  Pope  was  heard  like 
the  ghostly  wail  of  a  shadow  over  the  wide  waste  of  Christen- 
dom, not  without  pity,  but  without  any  permanent  effect. 
The  old  era  was  passing  away ;  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  any 
Pope  to  stay  or  to  renew  it. 

This  sense  of  poverty,  combined  with  a  conviction  of  his 
helplessness,  made  Adrian  restless,  irritable,  and  impracticable. 
It  increased  his  natural  irresolution  ;   and  that  again  exposed 

'  III.  2771.  thi.s  trait  alono  would  bo  sufficient  to 

"^  III.  2'jO'J.  redeem  bim  from  the  repulsive  colours 

'  III.  2539.           '  ill  which  he  has  beeu  painted  by  some 

*  Negro,  March  17,  1523.  To  mo       late  writers. 


572  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

him  to  the  suspicion  and  dishke  of  his  former  friends  and  his 
2)resent  subjects.  ^Tien  Charles  and  Henry  required  him, 
out  of  gratitude  to  join  the  confederacy  against  France,  Adrian 
demurred.  He  would  give  no  definite  answer.  He  alleged  his 
X)Overty,  he  blamed  the  wasteful  management  of  his  prede- 
cessor. On  another  occasion,^  when  he  was  urged  by  Clerk 
and  the  imperial  ambassador  to  declare  himself  in  favour  of 
his  confederates,  he  met  their  appeal  with  his  everlasting 
smile,  and  his  reiterated  excuse  of  poverty,  saying  that  the  See 
Apostolic  received  too  many  profits  from  France  for  him  to 
quarrel  with  it.  They  plied  him  with  fresh  arguments,  but 
Adrian  was  deaf  to  their  entreaties.  "  I  assure  your  Grace," 
says  Clerk,  forgetting  his  habitual  caution  in  the  irritation  of 
the  moment,  "  Pontifex,  velut  rupes  in  mari  sita,  undique  petita 
Jiuctibus,  mansit  immohiUs." 

These  difficulties  exposed  him  to  many  calumnies.  He 
was  accused  of  being  cold,  dissembling,  avaricious,  and  im- 
practicable— faults  rather  to  be  attributed  to  his  position  than 
to  himself.  Scrupulous  of  incurring  fresh  expenses,  he  was 
slow  to  engage  himself  in  measures  which  required  money ; 
unwilling  to  raise  hopes  he  could  not  gratify,  he  would  not 
promise  what  he  could  not  perform  ;  and  to  those  who  knew 
nothing  of  his  embarrassments,  his  parsimony  appeared  like 
meanness.  Too  keenly  sensitive  to  the  sarcasms  and  pas- 
quinades of  a  great  and  corrupt  capital  hke  Eome,  he  was  once 
injudicious  enough  to  visit  the  scoffers  with  resentment,  and 
reaped  in  consequence  the  natural  results  of  such  interference 
— more  pitiless  and  pelting  ridicule. 

In  that  respect  no  Pope  had  a  more  bitter  experience  than 
Adrian.  In  his  life  he  was  compared  to  Tarquin,  and  the 
epigram  written  upon  Alexander  VI.  was  revived  in  his  case : 

"  Sextus  Tarquinius,  Sextus  Nero,  Sextus  et  iste  : 
Semper  et  a  Sextis  diruta  Roma  fuit." 

At  his  death  a  statue  was  erected  to  Macerata,  his 
physician,  "  tanquam  patriae  liberatori,"  implying  that  he  had 
taken  off  the  Pope  by  poison.  Even  in  his  grave  his  memory 
was  not  suffered  to  rest.  He  was  buried  in  St.  Andrew's 
chapel,  between  the  tombs  of  Pius  II.  and  Pius  III. ;  and 
immediately  this  pasquinade  appeared,  "  Impius  inter  Pios." 
Never  was  any  city  "  gladder  of  Pope's  death  than  they  are  of 
this  man's,"  writes  Clerk  to  Wolsey.^     It  was  rumoured  that 

'  June  11,  1523.  -  III,  3464. 


1523.]  WOLSEY   AND   THE   PAPACY.  57 o 

he  had  amassed  much  treasure  ;  hut  when  the  doors  of  his 
private  ai^artments,  which  he  had  huilt  in  the  Borgian  Tower, 
and  of  which  he  always  carried  the  keys,  were  hurst  open, 
nothing  was  found  except  two  mitres,  a  few  cups  and  jewels, 
a  piece  of  gold  brought  from  India,  belonging  to  Leo  X. ;  and, 
if  his  enemies  may  be  believed,  implements  for  the  transmu- 
tation of  metals.  The  less  creditable  stories  circulated  re- 
specting him,  too  readily  reported  and  too  greedily  received, 
may  be  ascribed  to  malice.  Disappointed  in  their  hopes,  his 
enemies  attributed  the  disappearance  of  his  property  to  Enken- 
voert.  Cardinal  of  Tortosa,  and  accused  him  of  carrying  it 
off  the  day  before.  He  left  no  money,  except  800  crowns 
in  gold. 

Whatever  estimation  we  may  be  inclined  to  form  of  his 
character,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  upon  the  Eomans  he 
left  a  very  unfavourable  impression.  After  Adrian  VI.,  no 
Ultramontane,  however  exalted  his  virtues  or  indisputable  his 
claims,  could  entertain  the  least  hope  of  attaining  the  Papacy. 
Francis  I.  was  locked  up  in  Lyons,  trembling  for  the  fate  of 
his  kingdom.  The  sack  of  Genoa  by  the  Imperialists  had 
produced  a  deep  impression  upon  Italy.  From  the  severities 
inflicted  on  the  besieged,  the  Italians  might  learn  to  infer 
what  sort  of  treatment  they  had  to  expect  if  they  ventured  to 
incur  the  Emperor's  resentment.  As  Sessa  boasted,  the 
Emperor's  power  at  Eome  was  so  great,  he  might  "  convert 
stones  into  dutiful  sons."  And  yet  even  he,  it  is  probable, 
could  not  have  carried  the  election  of  a  second  Adrian. 

But  he  had  no  thoughts  of  so  doing.  Long  before  the 
announcement  of  the  death  of  Adrian,  there  cannot,  I  think,  be 
any  doubt  that  it  had  been  arranged  that  Cardinal  Be  Medici 
should  succeed.  It  was  part  of  the  compact  implicitly  or 
explicitly  made  with  him  at  the  election  of  his  predecessor. 
But  this  was  a  profound  secret. 

The  news  of  the  Pope's  death  was  communicated  in  a 
letter,  of  the  same  date,  addressed  by  Clerk  and  Hannibal  to 
Wolsey.  Before  the  breath  had  left  the  Pope's  body,  we  learn 
from  the  same  authors,  that  the  Cardinals  were  discussing  the 
chances  of  the  new  election.  They  told  Vrolsey  that  it  was 
hard  as  yet  to  decide  upon  whom  the  garland  would  light ;  but 
if  neither  Be  Medici  nor  Farnese  could  secure  the  Papacy  for 
themselves — and  that  was  not  probable — the  result  might 
prove  favourable  to  Wolsey.  They  added,  as  they  might 
safely  do,  without  fear  of  contradiction,  "  if  your  Grace  were 


574  THE  EEIGN  OF  HENEY  VIII.  [A.D. 

here  present,  ye  should  be  as  sure  of  it  as  ye  be  of  York,  and 
that  tota  curia  Romana,  ipsis  ctrererendissimis  Cardinalihus,  una 
anima,  aj^j^robantihus  ;  nor  the  Cardinal  of  Medici,  nor  yet  the 
proudest  of  thenTall,  would  no  more  look  for  it  [in  that  event] 
than  they  would  go  to  Jerusalem  upon  their  thumbs  !  "  They 
warned  him,  however,  that  in  consequence  of  the  unhappy 
precedent  afforded  by  Adrian,  his  absence  would  prove  a 
formidable  obstacle  to  his  success. 

The  news  reached  Wolsey  at  "the  More"  on  the  30th  of 
September,  and  he  immediately  addressed  a  letter  to  the  King, 
then  at  Woodstock,  briefly  announcing  the  fact,  and  stating 
that  though  he  considered  himself  "  unmeet  and  unable  to  so 
high  and  great  dignity,"  and  he  would,  rather  "than  to  be 
ten  popes,"  continue  and  end  his  life  in  the  King's  service, 
doing  what  he  could  for  the  honour  and  wealth  of  his  realm, 
yet  "  remembering  what  mind  and  opinion  your  Grace  was  of,  at 
the  last  vacation,  to  have  me  preferred  thereunto,  thinking  that 
it  should  be  to  the  honor,  benefit,  and  advancement  of  your 
affairs  in  time  coming,  and  supposing  verily  that  your  High- 
ness persisteth  in  the  same  mind  and  intent,  I  shall  devise 
such  instructions,  commissions,  and  other  writings,  as  the  last 
time  was  delivered  to  Master  Pace  for  that  purpose  ;  and  the 
same  I  shall  send  to  your  Grace  by  the  next  post." 

The  next  day  he  sent  the  paper  for  the  King's  signature, 
informing  him  at  the  same  time  that  he  had  "devised  a  familiar 
letter  in  the  King's  name  to  the  Emperor,  which,  if  it  may 
please  your  Highness  to  take  the  pain  for  to  write  with  your 
own  hand,  putting  thereunto  your  secret  sign  and  mark, 
being  between  your  Grace  and  the  said  Emperor,  shall  un- 
doubtedly do  singular  benefit  and  furtherance  to  your  gracious 
intent  and  virtuous  purpose  in  that  behalf."  He  professed 
himself  wholly  resigned  to  God's  will,  and  equally  obliged  t.o 
the  King,  whatever  the  result  might  be,  adding  that  he  should 
never  have  aspired  to  so  great  a  dignity,  had  he  not  thought 
that  it  would  conduce  to  the  King's  honour  and  to  the  welfare 
of  his  kingdom.  Then  alluding  to  the  Emperor,  he  recalled 
to  the  King's  memory  "the  conference  and  communications  " 
Charles  had  held  with  the  King  in  that  behalf.  He  hinted 
at  the  arguments  employed  by  Charles  on  that  occasion,  and 
his  promise  of  assistance,  if  Wolsey  could  be  persuaded  to 
become  a  candidate  for  the  triple  crown.  How  Charles 
redeemed  his  promises  remains  to  be  seen. 

The  death  of  the  Pope  was  known  to  Lady  Margaret,  the 


1323.]  THE   EMPEROR'S   COXDUCT.  575 

Emperor's  fiiint,  as  early  as  the  25th  of  September.^     It  was 
communicated  to  the  Emperor  himself,  in  a  letter,  dated  the 
l(3th  of  the  same  month,  h}'  the  Duke  of  Sessa.     The  Emperor 
had  expected  the  result ;   for  as  early  as  the  13th  of  July,  or 
afterwards  on  the  2nd  of   October,   he  wrote  to  the   Duke, 
stating  that  he  had  heard  of  the  Pope's  illness,  and  in  the 
event  of  a  new  election  Sessa  was  to  use  all  his  influence  in 
favour  of  Cardinal  De  Medici.^     At  this  period  the  Emperor's 
affairs  were  far  from   prosperous ;  the  tide   of  success  was 
turning  against  him  ;   his  succours  were  behindhand,  and  his 
troops,   as  usual,   were  murmuring  for  want   of  pay.      The 
10,000  Almains  under  Count  Felix,  the  most  important  con- 
tingent in  the  Emperor's  service,  refused  to  serve  any  longer 
unless   their  wages  were   advanced   by   England.^      In   this 
dilemma  Margaret  desired  De  Praet,  the  Imperial  ambassador 
in  England,  to  repair  to  Wolsey,  inform  him  of  the  death  of 
the  Pope,  and  offer  her  assistance  in  promoting  his  election  to 
the  vacant  throne."*     If  we  may  trust  the  account  sent  by  the 
ambassador  to  Charles,  Wolsey  expressed  his   gratitude  for 
these  offers,  not  forbearing  to  touch  upon  the  promises  made 
by  the  Emperor  when  he  was  with  the  King  at  Windsor.     He 
also  requested  INIargaret  to  write  without  a  moment's  delay  to 
the  Imperial  ambassadors  at  Piome  ;  and,  the  more  to  engage 
the  Emperor's  aid,  he  stated  that  he  had  made  a  great  point 
that  the  King  should  write  a  letter  to  the  Emperor  in  his  own 
hand. 

To  this  communication,  the  Emperor,  then  at  Pampeluna, 
sent  no  reply  until  the  27th  of  November.  Then,  after  ex- 
pressing his  regret  that  the  letter  of  his  ambassadors  had 
been  so  long  on  the  road,  he  scrupled  not  to  assure  De  Praet 
that  the  news  of  the  Pope's  death  had  never  reached  him  until 
the  4th  of  November  or  thereabouts.  He  admitted  that  a 
rumour  to  that  effect  had  been  set  afloat  by  the  French,  but 
such  was  their  mendacity  that  the  Emperor  gave  no  credence 
to  their  reports.  He  charged  his  ambassadors  to  inform  the 
King  and  the  Cardinal  that  he  retained  a  perfect  recollection 
how  he  and  the  King,  his  good  father  and  brother,  had  opened 
their  minds  on  this  subject  to  the  Cardinal ;  how  tliey  had 
exhorted  him  to  think  of  it,   and   promised  him  their   best 

'  See  III.  3399.  where  abstracts  will  bo  found  of  the 

^  See  Mr.  Bergenroth's  Cataloj^ue  same  letters, 
for  the    letters    under    those    dates ;  *  See  III.  3440,  3559. 

and     M.     Gachard's     Correspondance  ''  III.  3399;  Oct.  G. 

d'Adrien     VI.,    etc.,    pp.    192,     197, 


576  THE   REIGN   OF  HENEY   VIII.  [A.D. 

services  in  promoting  liis  election;  and  be  continued,  "that 
you  may  be  aware  with  wbat  zeal  and  diligence  we  have  taken 
up  tbis  affair  in  favor  of  tbe  said  lord  Legate,  we  send  you 
copies  of  our  letters  in  bis  bebalf,  directed  to  tbe  Duke  of 
Sessa,  our  ambassador  at  Eome,  ivritten  before  tbe  receipt  of 
yours,  as  well  as  of  otbers  afterwards  sent  to  tbe  Sacred 
College  .  ,  .  You  will  sbow  and  read  all  tbese  copies  to  tbe 
said  sieurs,  tbe  King  and  tbe  Cardinal." 

Of  tbe  trutb  of  tbis  statement,  and  of  tbe  Emperor's 
veracitj^  my  readers  may  judge  for  tbemselves  from  tbe  follow- 
ing circumstances.  On  tbe  28tb  of  October  tbe  Duke  of  Sessa 
wrote  to  tbe  Emperor,  stating  tbat  be  bad  received  letters 
from  England,  in  wbicb  be  was  strongly  urged  to  further 
Wolsey's  election.  Tbe  English,  be  said  (alluding  to  Clerk 
and  Hannibal),  think  bis  election  is  most  sure,  "  as  though 
God  would  work  a  miracle."  To  comply  with  these  impor- 
tunities, be  informed  tbe  Emperor  that  be  bad  so  far  con- 
sented as  to  recommend  Wolsey  for  the  pajDal  chair,  satisfied 
that  his  election  was  impossible.  In  bis  reply  to  this  com- 
munication, the  Emperor  informs  Sessa  that  he  fully  approves 
of  what  has  been  done ;  tbat  as  soon  as  ever  be  heard  of 
Adrian's  death  he  had  himself  written  to  Sessa,  desiring  him 
to  use  his  efforts  in  securing  the  election  for  Wolsey,  but  at 
the  same  time  he  had  taken  the  precaution  to  order  the  courier 
who  carried  the  despatch  to  he  detained  at  Barcelona  /  His 
letter  is  dated  tbe  14th  of  December,  and  reached  Sessa  long 
after  the  election.^ 

The  cardinals  bad  meanwhile  entered  the  conclave,  on  tbe 
1st  of  October.  Tbe  wooden  cells  appointed  for  their  lodgings 
were  separated  by  short  intervals,  and  w^ere  distinguished  from 
each  other  b}^  the  letters  of  the  alphabet.  For  those  eccle- 
siastics who  had  been  elevated  to  the  cardinalate  by  the  late 
Pope  the  decorations  were  of  purple,  for  the  others  green. 
The  custody  of  the  palace  was  entrusted  to  Ferdinand  Silvio, 
captain  of  the  Swiss ;  and  200  Germans  were  appointed  to 
keep  tbe  staircases.  The  arrangements  for  tbe  guard  were 
similar  to  those  adopted  at  Adrian's  election;  but  in  this 
instance  tbe  inner  or  fourth  door  was  kept  by  the  Grand 
Master  of  Ebodes,  Villiers  de  Lisle-Adam,   who   had   lately 

'  A  notice  of  these  two  important  the  effrontery  to  write  to  Wolsey  on 

letters  will  be  found  in  Mr.  Bergen-  the  16th  of  December,  two  days  after 

roth's  Calendar  under  their  respective  this  letter  to  Sessa,   stating  that  he 

dates.  had  already  written  to  Eome  in  his 

To  keep  up  the  farce,  Charles  had  behalf   before   he    had   received   the 


1523.] 


THE  CONCLAVE. 


577 


been  expelled  by  the  Turks.  To  each  cardinal^  three  servants 
were  allowed,  and  four  to  those  whose  feebleness  or  ill-health 
required  the  indulgence.^  There  was  also  a  sacristan,  two 
masters  of  the  ceremonies,  two  secretaries,  musicians  for  the 
mass,  all  of  whom  were  sworn  to  secrecy.  After  a  search 
made,  on  a  false  rumour,  for  arms  supposed  to  be  hidden  in 
the  conclave,  the  doors  were  walled  up,  and  the  windows 
locked  with  four  keys,  each  of  which  was  confided  to  a  different 
officer.  The  cardinals  confessed ;  and  the  next  day,  bemg 
the  eighth  of  the  conclave,  mass  was  celebrated,  and  the 
sacrament  was  administered,  by  Cardinal  Sta.  Croce  in  the 
chapel  of  St.  Nicholas.  Shortly  after,  three  French  cardinals, 
Auch,  Lorraine,  and  Bourbon,  made  their  appearance,  much 
to  the  discomfort  of  De  Medici  and  the  imperialists.  Present- 
ing themselves  at  the  doors  of  the  conclave  in  their  cloaks, 
or,  as  Clerk  calls  them,  "  their  short  weeds  (which  was  thought 
very  dissolute),  with  boots  and  spm's,"  they  were  admitted 
amidst  much  laughter.  "  The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,"  he  con- 
tinues in  no  complacent  mood,  "  was  in  a  gown  of  crane- 
coloured  velvet,  and  had  a  hat  with  feathers,  which  hat  he 
left  behind  him  for  lesing.  It  were  long  to  recite  unto  your 
Grace  the  cracks  of  the  French  faction,  and  with  how  proud 
boasting  words  they,  upon  the  arrival  of  these  cardinals, 
threatened  and  overlooked  every  man,  persuading  assuredly 
to  have  a  pope  at  their  pleasure,  Assuredl}^,  the  coming  of 
these  Cardinals  hath  troubled  and  impeached  our  good 
purposes  marvellously."  Hitherto,  by  sundry  means,  the 
cardinals  had  contrived  to  send  daily  information  to  their 
friends  without ;  now  they  were  more  strictly  guarded.^     On 


King's  letters;  and  he  had  now 
written  again,  as  Wolsey  would  learn 
from  De  Praet.  (III.  3647).  This 
was  done  to  give  colour  to  his  former 
fictions,  and  make  it  appear  that  he 
was  still  in  ignorance  of  the  election, 
although,  in  his  letter  to  Sessa  dated 
the  14th,  he  admits  that  he  had  been 
already  made  acquainted  with  the 
result,  and  that  no  better  pope  than 
De  Medici  could  have  been  elected. 
See  also  No.  3646. 

'  At  the  first  meeting  there  wore 
but  35 ;  by  the  subsequent  addition 
of  the  three  French  cardinals  and  the 
Cax'dinal  of  Ivrea,  the  number  was 
made  up  to  39.  (Clerk;  III.  3592.) 
When  the  numbers  exceeded  the 
alphabet  the  letters  on  the  cells  were 
VOL.  I. 


doubled. 

2  See  III.  3547. 

^  Sessa,  injhis letter  to  the  Emperor, 
speaking  of  the  conclave,  says  that 
tlie  immuring  was  a  mere  formality, 
and  the  cardinals  easily  contrived  to 
communicate  with  the  world  outside. 
(October  28.  See  Mr.  Bcrgem-oth's 
Calendar.)  It  is  possible  that,  as 
Clerk  states,  while  I)e  Medici's  party 
was  supreme,  the  strictness  of  the 
guard  was  relaxed  ;  but  by  the  pre- 
ponderance of  their  opponents  on  the 
arrival  of  the  French,  a  closer  watch 
was  insisted  on  for  a  time.  Even  this 
could  not  have  been  very  effectual ; 
for  Clerk,  who,  as  ambassador  from 
England,  was  one  of  those  who  kept 
watcJi  on  the  palace,  and  sav,-  all  that 

2p 


578  THE  EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

the  8tli  their  service  was  reduced,  and  they  were  restricted, 
according  to  the  usual  rules,  to  one  kind  of  meat,  either 
roasted  or  boiled. 

The  conclave  was  divided  into  two  factions,  of  seniors  and 
juniors.  The  latter,  numbering  about  sixteen,  supported  the 
claims  of  De  Medici ;  the  seniors,  superior  in  numbers,  were 
determined  to  oppose  him,  and  resist  the  nomination  of  any 
one  of  his  party,  to  the  utmost.  The  struggle  was  obstinate, 
and  there  was  no  appearance  of  accommodation.  Various 
means  were  tried,  without  avail,  by  nominating  a  third  party, 
to  reconcile  the  contending  factions  ;  and  in  the  pertinacity 
of  the  strife,  the  English  ambassadors  entertained  hopes  that 
Wolsey,  though  an  absentee,  might  carry  the  election,  as 
Adrian  had  done  before  him.^ 

If  the  account  given  by  Clerk  may  be  trusted,  when  the 
officers  of  the  city  perceived  that  the  cardinals  were  not  likely 
to  arrange  their  disputes  for  some  time,  they  came  to  the 
door  of  the  conclave,  "  where  at  a  hole  the  Eomans  declared 
unto  them  divers  hurts  and  annoyances  that  the  city  daily 
suffered  by  the  reason  of  their  long  delay,  as  well  in  scarcity 
of  victuals  as  otherwise,  through  other  misruled  persons, 
which  they  could  not  order  ;  and  finally  said  that  it  was  a 
shame  for  them,  so  many  wise  men  as  they  were,  that  they 
did  no  better  or  no  sooner  agree  ;  exhorting  them  to  leave 
their  particular  affections,  and  to  think  and  lean  unto  the 
commonwealth,  as  wise  men  and  as  good  men  should  do." 
The  cardinals  returned  for  answer  that  if  the  Eomans  could 
be  contented  that  they  "  should  choose  one  being  absent," 
meaning  Wolsey,  they  were  almost  agreed.  Whereupon  the 
Eomans  "  made  a  great  exclamation  that  in  anywise  they 
should  choose  some  man  present,  etiam  si  truncum  aut  stipitem 
electuri  forent."  ^ 

In  a  paragraph  added  to  their  letter  at  a  subsequent  date, 
the  English  ambassadors  say,  "Pope  Alexander  was  chosen 
in  eight  days,  Pope  July  in  six.  Pope  Leo  in   eight,  Pope 

passed,  complains  that  the  constitn-  and   some   upon  one  cause  of  favor, 

tions    for   diminishing   the    diet,    and  and  some   upon  other ;    so  that   in  a 

for   accelerating    the    election,    were  manner  they  be  victualled  there  within 

"  nothing      observed.'          "  Princes'  at    their     pleasure." — State     Papers, 

orators  (he  says,  alluding  to  Sessa),  Hen.  VIII.  vi.  183. 

deputed  the  custody  be  so  intermixed  '  III.  3464. 

with  the  cardinals'  kinsmen,  prelates,  ^  So  Clerk  wrote  to  Wolsey.     Of 

and   nobles   here   of   Rome,  that  we  course  I  do  not  warrant  the  accuracy 

cannot,  ne  dare,  order  thera  accord-  of  the  story, 
ingly;    some  by  pretext  of  sickness, 


1523.]  ELECTION   OF   CLEMENT   VIL  579 

Adrian  in  fourteen,  and  that  was  thought  a  very  long  tarrying. 
This  is  now  the  24th  day  they  have  been  in  the  concLave,  with 
such  i^ain  and  disease,  that  jom  Grace  would  marvel  that 
such  men  as  they  be  would  suffer  it.  And  yet  by  none  out- 
ward appearance  we  cannot  perceive  that  we  be  now  anj^thing 
nearer  a  Pope  than  we  were  the  first  day  they  entered  the 
conclave.  .  .  .  For  there  is  a  score  of  the  old  Cardinals  that 
have  sworn  and  conspired  together  to  rather  suffer  death  than 
to  consent  unto  Medicis.  And  the  cardinal  De  Medicis  hath 
another  band  with  him,  which  will  suffer  with  him  all  that 
shall  be  possible  to  the  contrary." 

At  last,  after  many  unsuccessful  efforts  to  bring  matters 
to  accommodation,  the  party  of  Medici  prevailed  in  con- 
sequence of  the  intrigues  of  Colonna,  or  his  real  displeasure 
at  the  infidelity  of  his  own  supporters.-^  Belying  on  his 
influence  to  secure  the  election,  he  had  agreed  with  De  Medici- 
to  nominate  Cardinal  Jacobati,  on  condition  that  if  the  nomina- 
tion did  not  prove  successful  Colonna  should  give  his  support 
to  De  Medici.  The  latter,  confiding  in  his  superior  intelligence, 
and  better  aware  of  the  real  state  of  feeling  among  Colonna's 
suj^porters,  agreed  to  these  conditions.  Jacobati  failed ;  and 
Colonna,  irritated  at  his  defeat,  fulfilled  his  word,  and,  to  the 
consternation  of  all  his  friends  in  the  conclave,  gave  his  vote 
to  his  implacable  enemy  De  Medici,  who  was  declared  duly 
elected  on  the  17th  of  November,  the  fiftieth  day  fi-om  the 
time  that  the  cardinals  had  entered  the  conclave.^ 

As  soon  as  the  news  reached  the  ears  of  Cardinal  Wolsey 
he  addressed  a  letter  to  Henry  VIII.  After  briefly  and  calmly 
touching  upon  the  protracted  disputes  in  the  election,  and  his 
own  prospects  of  success  as  set  forth  in  Clerk's  letter  of  the 
24th  of  October,  he  announced  that  the  choice  had  fallen  on 
De  Medici :  "Of  which  good  fortunate  news.  Sir,  your  High- 
ness hath  much  cause  to  thank  Almighty  God,  forasmuch  as 
not  only  he  is  a  perfect  and  faithful  friend  to  the  same,  but 
that  also  much  the  rather  by  your  means  he  hath  attained  to 
this  dignity.  And  for  my  part,  as  I  take  God  to  record,  I  am 
more  joyous  thereof  than  if  it  had  fortuned  upon  my  person, 
knowing  his  excellent  qualities  most  meet  for  the  same,  and 

'   It  is  fully  described  by  Clerk  in  that   his  conduct   would  bo   reported 

a  letter  to  Wolsey,  111.  3592.  in    an     unfavourable     light     to    the 

^  See   Clerk,  ibid.     It   is  not   im-  Emperor,  who  was    then   omnipotent 

probable  that  Colonna  was  influenced  in    Italy.      But   who  can  iiiiravol   the 

in  givinj^  his  votes  to  De  Medici  by  intrigues  of  a  college  of  cardinals  ? 
the  JJuke  of  Sesaa,  and  the  conviction 


580  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 


how  great  and  sure  a  friend  your  Grace  and  the  Emperor  be 
hke  to  have  of  him,  and  I  so  good  a  father."  ^ 

His  anticipations  were  not  destined  to  be  realized.  Could 
he  have  looked  into  the  future,  he  would  have  seen  Eome 
sacked  and  burnt  under  Clement  VII.  by  the  imperial  forces ; 
and  England,  under  the  same  Pope,  divided  from  its  allegiance 
to  the  Holy  See.  More  than  this  ;  he  would  have  seen  his 
own  fate  and  untimely  fall,  intimately  blended  with  the  pro- 
ceedings and  conduct  of  one  from  whom  he  had  expected  so 
much,  and  at  whose  election  he  had  expressed  such  un- 
mitigated satisfaction.  It  is  clear  that  Wolsey  never  had  the 
,  smallest  chance  of  obtaining  the  Papal  tiara;  but  if  such 
A  had  been  his  lot,  though  he  might  have  retarded  the  progress 
of  the  Keformation,  he  could  never  have  prevented  it.  My 
readers  will  have  perused  the  events  narrated  in  these  pages 
to  little  purpose,  if  they  think  that  this  new  epoch  in  the 
world's  progress  depended  upon  the  election  of  a  Pope  or  an 
Emperor,  the  disappointment  of  an  Augustinian  friar  at 
Wittemberg,  or  the  misconduct  of  a  Papal  nuncio.  When 
life  is  ebbing,  and  the  advent  of  a  new  existence  is  at  hand, 
advancing  as  noiselessly  and  yet  as  certain  as  the  dawn, 
blandly  tolerant  of  our  small  cares  and  griefs  as  it  sweeps 
along,  but  not  the  more  to  be  diverted  from  its  benevolent 
and  irresistible  course,  we  are  apt  to  think  that  its  progress 
might  have  been  stayed  had  our  wisdom  devised  different 
measures,  and  adopted  in  due  time  other  remedies  than  those 
on  which  we  relied.  So  is  it  with  the  death  and  the  new  life 
of  the  world.  We  mistake  its  causes ;  we  misread  its  mean- 
ing. True  love,  and  not  less  wise  than  true,  will  shed  a  tear, 
and  strew  the  dead  with  flowers  ;  then  turning  its  face  to  the 
grey  and  shivering  dawn,  bind  up  its  loins  for  the  new  race, 
though  different  to  our  seeming,  not  less  full  of  life,  not  less 
divine,  than  that  which  has  passed  irrevocably  away. 

Lamentation  over  the  fall  of  PJiodes  was  not  confined  to 
Adrian  VI.  It  had  reposed  so  long  in  undisturbed  security,  so 
long  had  it  defied  the  Infidel,  that  to  imagine  the  Turk  would 
ever  capture  Pthodes,  "  had  become  a  mock  and  a  bye-word." 
When  the  news  of  its  fall  came  at  last,  the  Christian  world 

'  Dec.   6;    III.  3609.     His  letter  sentiments,     and     declare     Wolsey's 

of  congi'atnlation  to  the  Pope,  and  his  satisfaction  at  having  that  person  for 

instructions  on  the  same  occasion  to  Pope,  whom,  above  all  spiritual  men 

Clerk   and   others,  will  be   found  at  living,   he   had   in   his   heart    "  been 

Nos.  3658,  3659.  They  express  similar  most  affectionate  unto." 


1522.]  THE   SIEGE   OF   RHODES.  581 

refused  to  believe  it.  No  sooner  had  its  surrender  been 
ascertained  beyond  dispute,  than  men  Hke  Adrian  bowed  to 
the  stroke  with  sorrowful  submission  and  silent  tears.  Their 
consciences  were  smitten  with  self-reproaches  and  vain  regrets. 
In  the  midst  of  their  selfish  disputes  the  mighty  had  fallen, 
the  ancient  glory  of  Christendom  had  become  tarnished. 
Whilst  the  professors  of  the  true  faith  seemed  further  from 
peace  and  unity  than  ever,  the  consolidation  of  the  East — 
inscrutable  fact ! — reared  on  a  false  basis,  had  been  accom- 
plished. So  long  as  a  handful  of  devoted  knights,  shut  up  in 
a  strong  and  gloomy  fortress,  self-excluded  from  the  turmoils 
and  pleasures  of  this  world,  guarded  the  sacred  banner  of  the 
Church,  it  was  a  consolation  to  the  generous  and  romantic  to 
believe  that  Christian  heroism  was  not  yet  wholly  extinct. 
Now  this  pledge  of  God's  favour  had  been  swept  away  for 
the  sins  of  mankind,  and  the  cause  of  Christianity  seemed 
desperate. 

Of  the  events  of  the  siege,  of  the  feelings  with  w'hich  it  was 
regarded,  many  curious  notices  will  be  found  among  our 
English  State  Papers.  Our  own  Kings,  Henry  VII.  and 
Henry  VIII.,  were  the  protectors  of  the  Order ;  and  the  cor- 
respondence of  the  latter  with  the  successive  grand  masters 
Caretto  and  Lisle-Adam  cannot  be  read  without  interest.  In 
the  account  of  the  siege,  and  the  description  of  Soliman, 
by  the  English  knight,  Nicholas  Eoberts,  one  of  the  few 
survivors  of  that  heroic  band,  many  curious  details  have  been 
preserved,  not  to  be  found  elsewhere.^ 

To  those  who  had  watched  the  current  of  events,  and  the 
increasing  conquests  of  the  Turks  in  Syria  and  Egypt,  or 
whose  prejudices  had  not  blinded  them  to  the  genius  and 
administrative  abilities  of  Soliman,  it  must  have  been  evident 
that  the  independence  of  the  Ehodians  was  a  question  of  time 
only.  It  could  not  be  allowed  that  a  handful  of  men  should 
set  the  whole  power  of  the  Crescent  at  defiance,  and,  instigated 
partly  by  the  religious  enthusiasm  of  the  knight  errant,  partly 
by  the  restless  spirit  of  the  sea  rover,  swoop  down  from  their 
lofty  and  solitary  eyrie  on  the  defenceless  commerce  of  the 
Mediterranean,  dreaded  alike  by  Christian  and  by  Infidel. 
The  Ehodians  were  accused  of  making  little  difference  between 
the  sheep  and  the  goat,  between  the  followers  of  the  Crescent 
and  the  Cross.  But  it  must  be  remembered  in  their  justifica- 
tion, that  this  calumny  originated  with   the   Venetian    and 

'  See  the  abstract  of  this  letter  in  III.  p.  1272. 


582  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

other  merchants,  who  were  trafficking  their  goods,  and  their 
souls  at  the  same  time,  with  the  enemies  of  the  Church,  and 
dishonouring  their  Christian  calling.  This  will  enable  us  to 
account  for  the  cold  support  which  the  Ehodians  received  in 
their  mortal  struggle  from  the  mercantile  Italian  republics.^ 

Fabricius  de  Caretto,  not  insensible  of  the  danger,  was 
pref)aring  for  the  worst  when  he  died,  in  the  summer  of  1521. 
Two  candidates  were  put  forward  to  succeed  him — Philip 
Villiers  de  Lisle-Adam  and  Sir  Thomas  Docwra,  Prior  of  St. 
John's  in  England.  Docwra  was  recommended  by  his  wealth, 
his  ability,  his  knowledge  of  courts,  and  his  great  experience  ; 
Lisle-Adam,  for  the  skill  with  which  he  had  managed  the 
interests  of  the  Order  in  France  and  Spain.  He  had,  besides, 
greatly  distinguished  himself  by  a  naval  victory  gained  over 
the  soldan  of  Egypt  in  the  year  1510 ;  was  seneschal  to  the 
previous  Grand  Master,  and  in  1514  visitor  of  all  the  priories 
belonging  to  the  Order  in  France.  As  his  name  stood  first  in 
the  list,  and  no  dissentient  voice  was  raised,  Lisle-Adam  was 
elected  ^vith  acclamation,^ 

At  the  time  of  his  election  Lisle-Adam  was  at  Paris,  and 
immediately  prepared  to  return.  But  misfortune  attended 
his  steps.  Francis  I.,  at  that  time  engaged  in  a  war  with  the 
Emperor,  could  lend  him  little  assistance.  On  his  voyage 
down  the  Pihone  to  Marseilles,  a  vessel  filled  with  arms  and 
ammunition  was  lost  through  the  negligence  of  the  pilot. 
Whilst  sailing  to  Nice,  a  fire  broke  out  in  one  of  his  four 
ships  laden  with  powder.  Between  Corsica  and  Sardinia  he 
encountered  a  terrible  storm,  in  which  nine  of  his  crew  were 
struck  with  lightning  ;  and  he  narrowly  escaped  falling  into 
the  clutches  of  the  Turkish  pirate  Cortagoli,^  who  was  waiting 
to  intercept  him  with  a  large  fleet  ofl:  Cape  Malea. 

The  Grand  Master  was  received  by  the  Pihodians  with 
enthusiasm,  and  was  even  congratulated  by  Soliman  himself 
on  his  election.  But  his  joy  was  of  no  long  duration.  Two 
days  before  his  arrival  Belgrade  had  been  taken  by  the  Turk.* 
By  his  success  on  this  occasion  and  at  Peterwardein  ^  shortly 
before,  Soliman  was  inspired  with  hopes  of  further  conquests, 

1  During  the  progress  of  tbe  siege,  3814.    He  had  lost  two  of  his  brothers 

the  Venetians  banished  two  of  their  in    an    encounter   with   the  Knights, 

citizens     for     carrying     supplies     to  and   the    third   was    at   that   time    a 

Ehodes.     See  III.  2840.  prisoner  at  Rhodes. 

*  His  letter   to  Henry  VIII.  an-  *  Sept.  8 ;  but,  according  to  Lisle, 

nouncing  his  election,  may  be  seen  at  Adam's   letter  to  Wolsey,  III.  1741, 

No.  1604.  Belgrade  was  surrendered  on  the  10th. 

3  Of  this  Cortagoli  see  II.  17  and  ^  See  III.  1471,  1472,  1497. 


1521,  1522.]  THE   SIEGE   OF   KHODES.  583 

and  he  resolved  to  turn  his  arms  against  Rhodes.  To  disguise 
his  intentions,  and  prevent  the  princes  of  Christendom  from 
taking  the  alarm,  and  sending  reinforcements  to  the  Ehodians, 
Soliman  took  the  precaution  of  intercepting  all  communications. 
A  spy  sent  to  Constantinople  contrived  to  advertise  the  Grand 
Master  of  the  Turk's  designs  by  a  letter  conveyed  in  a  pot  of 
caviare.  The  danger  was  urgent ;  and  Lisle-Adam  prepared 
energetically  to  meet  it.-^  Convoys  of  sailors,  protected  by  the 
knights,  were  sent  over  to  the  opposite  coast  of  Asia,  to  fetch 
wood ;  the  corn  was  cut  down  before  it  was  ripe ;  guns  and 
spears  were  examined ;  hand-millstones  provided  for  grinding 
corn ;  and  a  survey  taken  of  the  ammunition,  erroneously 
estimated  as  sufficient  to  last  a  twelvemonth's  siege.  The 
Turkish  slaves  were  invited  by  large  rewards  to  assist  in  the 
general  preparations ;  absent  knights  were  summoned  to 
retm-n;  and  an  urgent  letter,  despatched  to  Henry  VIII., 
requested  that  Sir  Thomas  Docwra  and  Sir  Thomas  Newport  ^ 
might  be  sent  to  Rhodes  with  the  money  and  corn  they  had 
been  employed  in  collecting.  These  generous  efforts  of  Lisle- 
Adam  were  counteracted  by  the  intrigues  of  Andrew  d'Amoral, 
a  Portuguese  knight.  Chancellor  of  the  Order,  and  next  in 
authority  to  the  Grand  Master.  The  historians  of  the  time 
concur  in  expressing  their  admiration  of  the  Chancellor's 
eloquence,  his  rare  scholarship,  his  familiar  acquaintance 
with  the  writings  of  the  elder  Pliny.  But  his  ambition  was 
equal  to  his  ability  ;  and  in  revenge  for  his  disappointment  in 
failing  to  obtain  the  Grand  Mastership,  he  is  said  to  have 
maintained  a  treasonable  correspondence  with  the  Turk,  and 
betrayed  the  plans  of  the  Rhodians  to  the  enemy.^ 

To  add  to  the  Grand  Master's  disquietude,  the  Italian 
knights  insisted  upon  leave  of  absence.  Irritated  by  his 
refusal  of  so  unreasonable  a  demand,  they  retired  in  a  body  to 
Candia,  and  were  not  without  great  difliculty  persuaded  to 
return. 

1  See  III.  2117,  2118,  and  2324-  dated  Nov.  13,  published  in  N4gocia- 

2325.  tions   du  Levant,  pref.,  p.  131.     See 

^  It  is  said  that  Sir  Thomas  New-  also  the  statement  in  Til.  284] ,  ])rinted 

port,  whilst  carrying  troops  and  money  in    Hakluyt,    and    derived    from   an 

to  Khodes,  fell  in  with  a  storm,  and  account  of   the    siege   translated  out 

was  cast  away.  of    French  by   desire  of  Sir  Thomas 

*  This  was  generally  believed  at  Docwra  in  1524.     Besides  d'Amoral, 

the     time,     bat     the     evidence     of  there  was  a  i-enegado  Jew  physician, 

d'Amoral's  guilt  is   not    satisfactory.  who  kept  up  a  correspon<lencc   witli 

The  popular  account,  however,  is  con-  the    Turk    by    means   of   a    Greek,  a 

firmed  by  a  letter  of  Lisle-Adam  to  native  of  Chios, 
his   nephew   Eochepot  Montmorenci, 


58-i  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY    VHI.  [A.D. 

On  a  review  the  forces  of  the  island  were  estimated  as 
follows  : — 312  knights/  not  including  officers  belonging  to  the 
Order,  300  soldiers,  500  Cretans,  besides  sailors  and  others ; 
between  3,000  and  4,000  townsmen  capable  of  bearing  arms ; 
and  1,500  or  2,000  villagers  fitted  only  to  dig  and  carry.  To 
these  must  be  added,  a  troop  of  young  men  brought  from 
Crete  to  Ehodes  by  Messer  John  Antonio  de'  Bonaldi,  a 
Venetian  gentleman,  who  happened  to  be  trading  at  that  time 
for  wine  in  the  port  of  Candia,  and  the  crew  of  a  large  carrack 
laden  with  spices,  commanded  by  Dominic  Fornari,  a  Genoese 
merchant,  who,  in  returning  from  Alexandria  to  Sicily, 
anchored  near  Ehodes,  and  was  persuaded  to  share  in  the 
perils  of  the  siege. 

The  most  ungrateful  portion  of  the  task  remained.  The 
city,  notwithstanding  its  proximity  to  the  Turk,  was  sur- 
rounded with  pleasure  houses,  orchards,  and  gardens.  To 
supply  the  necessities  and  even  the  luxuries  of  the  wealthiest 
and  most  exclusive  society  in  Europe,  a  thriving  Greek  popu- 
lation had  gathered  round  the  suburbs.  The  olive,  the  vine, 
the  pomegranate,  and  the  fig  flourished  in  profusion  beneath 
the  guns  of  the  fort.  Eoses  with  their  myriad  blossoms — 
from  which  the  island  received  its  name — fruits  and  vegetables 
of  all  kinds,  fowls,  cattle,  and  corn,  throve  abundantly  in  the 
mild  and  delicious  climate.  Now  every  olive,  vine,  and  fig 
tree  within  a  mile  of  the  fort  had  to  be  levelled  with  the 
ground.  Amidst  the  lamentations  of  women  and  children, 
houses  were  razed,  gardens  demolished,  poultry  and  cattle 
driven  into  the  town.  The  Grand  Master  set  the  example  by 
devastating  with  his  own  hand  his  own  garden  situated  in 
front  of  the  French  bastion.  Labourers  and  animals,  crowded 
together  within  the  narrow  streets,  ill  provided  with  adequate 
lodgings,  unaccustomed  to  the  stifling  atmosphere  and  unusual 
food,  languished  and  died.  A  pestilence  among  the  cattle 
was  followed  by  diarrhoea  and  fever  among  the  men.     From 

'  That  is,  according  to  Vertot,  of  Remberton    (Pemberton  ?),    Oct.    de 

Provence,  51 ;  Auvergce,  26 ;  Prance,  MontselH      (Mansell  ?),     John     Soty, 

62 ;     Italy,    47 ;     Arragon,    etc.,    52 ;  George      Einer,      Nicholas       Ruberti 

England,    11;    Germany,    6;    Castile  (Roberts),  George  Asselz(Lascelles  ?), 

and  Portugal,  57.     Of  this  number  13  Michael  Rous.     Some  of  these  names 

were  appointed  to  guard  the  tower  of  are  so  disfigured  as  to  defy  conjectare. 

St.  Nicholas.  Besides    these,    there    were    Thomas 

According   to   Yertot,  the  names  Docwra,  grand    prior,   who   remained 

of  the  English  knights  at  the  time  of  in    England,    Sir  John  Borough,   the 

the  muster  were  John  Rawson,  William  Turcopolier,  slain.  Sir  William  Weston, 

Tnest  (West   or   Weston?),  Nicholas  commander,    Nicholas    Fairfax,    and 

Usel  (Hnssey  ?),  Giles  Russell,  Thomas  Thomas  Newport. 


1522.]  THE   SIEGE   OF  RHODES.  585 

the  besieged  the  plague  extended  with  frightful  ravage  to  the 
besiegers,  and  proved  more  fatal  than  the  sword.  The  Turks, 
consisting  chiefly  of  hasty  levies  drawn  from  the  rustic  popu- 
lation, had  no  tents,  but  encamped  in  the  open  air.  Habituated 
to  no  other  occupation  than  that  of  feeding  cattle,  impatient 
of  the  tediousness  of  a  protracted  siege,  the  privations  they 
had  to  endure  were  augmented  by  unclean  habits,  half-cooked 
meat,  ill-baked  bread,  and  a  scanty  supply  of  water ;  for  the 
Ehodians  had  taken  the  precaution  to  fill  the  wells  outside  the 
town  with  flax  and  putrid  garbage. 

The  main  body  of  the  Turkish  fleet,  preceded  a  few  days 
before  by  a  detachment  of  thirty  galleys,  hove  in  sight  on  the 
24th  of  June.  According  to  the  account  of  Nicholas  Roberts,^ 
it  consisted  of  500  sail ;  according  to  others,  of  350.  The 
difference  may  be  reconciled  on  the  supposition  that  the 
witnesses  took  their  reckoning  at  different  periods  of  the  siege, 
before  and  after  the  main  body  of  the  Turks  had  been  rein- 
forced. After  mancBuvring  some  time,  apparently  with  a  view 
of  disj)laying  their  power,  the  fleet  passed  in  a  long  line  in 
view  of  the  town,  and  harboured  a  few  miles  off  at  Parambolin 
(Lindo  ?).  To  allay  the  excitement  and  calm  the  minds  of 
the  inhabitants,  Lisle-Adam  had  given  orders,  on  the  25th 
(24th  ?)  of  June,  for  a  solemn  service  to  be  celebrated  in  the 
church  of  St.  John.  Sermon  done,  at  the  close  of  the  mass, 
the  Grand  Master  solemnly  commended  himself,  his  Order, 
and  the  town  to  the  protection  of  their  patron  saint.  "  And 
above  all  other  words,  which  were  too  long  to  tell,  he  besought 
him  meekly  that  it  would  please  him  to  take  the  keys  of  that 
miserable  city;  the  which  keys  he  presented,  and  laid  upon 
the  pJtar  before  the  image,  beseeching  St.  John  to  take  the 
keeping  and  protecting  thereof  and  of  all  the  religion." 

The  same  day  on  which  the  fleet  was  descried,  a  procession 
of  the  host,  followed  by  the  Order  and  the  whole  i)opulation 
on  foot,  traversed  the  streets  of  Rhodes.  Scarcely  had  the 
last  wailing  note  of  the  litany  died  away,  and  the  last  acolyte 
disappeared,  when  young  and  old — men,  women,  and  children; 
knights,  priests,  and  friars  ;   the  sick,  the  impotent,  and  the 

'  TIT.  3026.     Hannibal,  who   was  (i.e.  light  galleys  with  16  or  18  oars 

likely  to  be  well  informed,  says,  "  300  on  each  side,  and  two  rowers  to  each 

sail  well  armed"  (No.  2539).    Accord-  oar),  G4  groat  ships,  6  or  7  galleons 

ing  to  the  account  preserved  in  TTak-  {i.e.   armadas),  30  galliires,  besides  a 

luyt,  the  fleet  consisted  of  the  follow-  large  detachment  kept  at  sea  to  pre- 

irig  vessels  :  30  galleasses,  103  galleys,  vent    reiuforcomonta    from    entering 

15  taforees  (horse   boats),   20  foists  Rhodes. 


586  THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

cripple — mounted  with  breathless  anxiety  the  city  walls,  there 
to  gaze  upon  that  formidable  fleet,  which  was  now  doubling 
the  neighbouring  shore ;  to  gaze,  as  the  contemporary 
accounts  declare,  with  deathlike  stillness  and  horrible  fascina- 
tion, as  djdng  men  gaze,  on  the  fatal  instruments  of  their  own 
destruction. 

The  Turks  consisted,  by  some  accounts,  of  40,000  fighting 
men  and  60,000  miners ;  or,  if  we  may  fill  up  the  gaps  in  the 
letter  of  Sir  Nicholas  Eoberts,  of  "  100,000  fighting  men,  and 
50,000  labourers  with  spades  and  picks,  which  were  the  occasion 
of  the  taking  of  Ehodes."  Though  strongly  fortified,  it  was  by 
no  means  qualified  to  resist  a  siege,  and  was  easily  invested. 
It  was  surrounded  by  a  double,  according  to  some  accounts  by 
a  triple,  wall,  strengthened  by  thirteen  towers  and  five  bastions, 
defended  by  a  deep  foss  and  a  counterscarp ;  and,  judging  of 
the  deadly  effects  of  their  guns  during  the  siege,  and  the  man}- 
batteries  brought  up  by  the  Turks,  the  utmost  skill  had  been 
displayed  by  the  knights  in  arranging  their  defences.  Strict 
disciplinarians,  well  acquainted  with  the  art  of  war,  they  had 
spared  no  pains  in  training  their  followers.  Nothing  was 
wanting,  either  on  the  part  of  their  commander  or  of  their 
engineers — of  whom  Gabriel  Martinengo,  a  gentleman  of 
Brescia,  was  the  most  eminent — to  turn  their  limited  resources 
to  the  best  advantage.  And  though,  perhaps,  the  more 
regular  armour  of  the  knight  was  deprived  of  half  its  advan- 
tage, by  the  heat  of  the  climate  and  the  season  of  the  year, 
yet  in  their  numerous  sallies  their  long  spears  must  have 
proved  deadly  and  effective  weapons  against  the  yielding 
garments  of  the  Turks,  armed  with  a  scimitar  and  narrow 
shield.-^ 

To  stimulate  the  exertions  of  the  luaights,  each  nation  was 
appointed  to  its  respective  post.  At  the  French  bastion,  on 
the  extreme  left,  stood  the  French  knights,  commanded  by  Sir 
John  St.  Aubin,  with  the  banner  of  Jieurs  de  Us.  Next  to 
them  were  the  German  knights,  under  their  eagles,  led  by 
their  commander  Walderic.  Then  came  the  knights  of 
Auvergne,  commanded  by  the  chevalier  Dumesnil.  The  most 
dangerous  post  was  assigned  to  the  Spaniards,  commanded  by 

'  Morally,    the    effects     on    their  Turkish    officers.      Clearly,    in    their 

followers    were    not    less    important.  estimation,  these  "  infidel  dogs  "  knew 

The    Christian    writers  of   the  times  nothing  of  chivalry,  always  associated 

speak  with  the  greatest  contemi^t  of  in  the  minds  of  that  generation  with 

the  turbans  and  silk  vestments  of  the  knightly  armour. 


1522.]  THE   SIEGE   OF   KHODES.  587 

Francois  de  Carrieres,  and  to  the  English  knights  under  Sir 
Nicholas  Hussey.  Here  the  Turk  made  his  hottest  assaults, 
and  here  also  the  Grand  Master  took  his  station  shortly  after 
the  siege  commenced.  To  Angelo  Geutili  was  assigned  the 
Italian  hastion ;  and  to  Berenger  de  Lioncel  that  of  the  Pro- 
vencal knights,  towards  the  extreme  right.  These  were  the 
most  important.  Sir  John  Borough,  an  Englishman,  Turco- 
polier  of  the  Order,  was  appointed,  with  four  others,  to  rein- 
force the  Spanish  and  English  bastions  whenever  they  were 
too  hotly  pressed,  and  was  shot  w^hilst  carrying  off  a  banner 
from  the  enemj'. 

Lisle-Adam  combined  the  piety  and  asceticism  of  the  monk 
with  the  valour,  self-devotion,  and  intrepidity  of  the  knight 
errant.  He  shared  the  lot  of  the  common  soldier ;  exposed 
himself  to  the  same  dangers,  endured  the  same  privations. 
Snatching  a  hasty  meal  on  the  ramparts  in  the  daytime,  he 
not  unfrequently  continued  at  his  post  until  the  third  watch 
of  the  night.  A  block  of  stone,  a  chance  log,  served  him  for 
a  pillow  when  he  sought  a  brief  interval  of  repose,  worn  out 
with  incessant  labour  or  mental  excitement.  A  cold  and 
rigorous  judgment  might  have  condemned  him  for  exposing 
his  person  too  fi-eely  in  the  various  sallies  of  the  garrisons,  or 
in  the  desperate  assaults  made  by  the  enemy,  as  they  breached 
the  walls,  and  poured  like  a  torrent  into  the  town,  overwhelm- 
ing for  an  instant  with  their  irresistible  numbers  the  scanty 
ranks  of  its  defenders.  On  all  other  occasions  he  was  calm, 
cautious,  and  self-collected ;  was  never  elated  by  success,  never 
depressed  by  the  most  formidable  dangers,  or  the  apparent 
hopelessness  of  his  cause.  In  the  alternations  of  good  and  ill 
fortune,  in  the  opposite  and  contradictory  duties  of  controlling 
the  rash  and  urging  the  reluctant,  of  providing  against  dis- 
affection from  within— not  uncommon  in  a  mixed  population 
— and  daily  increasing  dangers  from  without,  he  lost  none  of 
that  calmness,  dignity,  and  composure  for  which  eyewitnesses 
tell  us  he  was  remarkable.  The  grace,  majesty,  and  sweet- 
ness which  secured  for  him  in  more  peaceable  times  the  love 
and  veneration  of  beholders,  remained  untarnished  and  un- 
diminished in  all  the  trying  events  of  this  most  daring  and 
desperate  enterprise.  What  little  time  could  be  spared  from 
the  incessant  duties  of  governor,  leader,  and  commander,  was 
given  to  devotion.  In  his  cuirass  and  helmet — ready  at  the 
call  of  duty — he  spent  a  portion  of  the  night  in  prayer, 
prostrate  at  the  foot  of  the  altar  ;  or,  laying  aside  his  gauntlets. 


588  THE  KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

busied  himself  with  his  Psalter,  devoutly  repeating  the  Psalms 
of  David.i 

Towards  the  close  of  July,  the  Turk  commenced  the  assault 
by  erecting  a  battery  opposite  the  Spanish  and  English 
bastions.  But  his  fire  was  soon  silenced  by  the  guns  of  the 
Ehodians,  directed  by  the  Brescian  Martinengo,  who  had 
entered  the  town  on  the  24th  of  the  same  month.  The 
attempts  of  the  enemy  to  renew  their  works  proved  equally 
unsuccessful.  The  ground,  a  hard  impenetrable  rock,  dis- 
mantled of  every  tree,  cottage,  and  projection  which  could 
afford  shelter  or  baffle  the  artillery  of  the  besieged,  exposed 
them  to  the  incessant  and  fatal  fire  of  the  town.  The  Ehodians, 
grown  familiar  with  danger,  sallied  out,  and  completed  their 
discomfiture  with  the  sword.  A  month  had  elapsed,  and  the 
invaders  had  made  no  progress.  Baffled  in  their  hopes  of  an 
easy  victory,  unaccustomed  to  the  hardships  and  perils  of  a 
protracted  siege,  exposed  to  the  continual  fire  and  sallies  of  the 
garrison,  without  fuel,  scantily  supplied  with  water  and  pro- 
vision, the  Turkish  soldiers  grew  every  day  more  reluctant  to 
obey,  more  inclined  to  insubordination,  when  Soliman  himself 
entered  the  camp.^ 

His  appearance  was  the  signal  for  fresh  efforts  and  more 
formidable  tactics.  Anxious  to  wipe  off  the  disgrace  they  had 
incurred,  the  Turkish  generals  exerted  themselves  to  the 
utmost,  and  pushed  forward  their  works  with  renewed  vigour. 
The  wretched  pioneers  were  again  forced  to  the  trenches 
with  the  bastinado  or  the  sword ;  and  Lisle-Adam,  unwilling 
to  venture  the  loss  of  a  single  man  against  such  fearful  odds, 
resolved  to  remain  on  the  defensive. 

The  Ehodians  were  chiefly  annoyed  by  two  batteries  ;  one 
of  which,  mounting  twelve  brazen  mortars,  shot  stone  balls 
into  the  town  seven  palms  in  circumference ;  and  the  other, 
of  forty  guns,  carried  balls,  some  of  nine,  and  others  of  eleven 

'  Sach  is  the  general  estimate  of  grief  at  the  loss  of  Ehodes;  and  his 

his    character   as    given   by    Fontani,  judgment    was    warped — as     human 

who  knew  him  well,  and  was  in  close  judgment  often  is — by  the  ill  success 

personal   attendance    on    the    Grand  of  the  Grand  Master  and  the  sui-render 

Master  during  the  siege.     It  must  be  of  Ehodes,  which  the  Pope  took  much 

confessed,  however,  that  Pope  Adrian  to  heart.     He  was  also  said  to  have 

entertained  a  less  favourable  opinion  been  greatly  influenced  by  the  English 

of    Lisle-Adam's  talents   and    ability.  knight  Sir  Thomas  SheiSeld,  who  voted 

He    thought   him    a   man    "  of    small  for  Lisle-Adam  in  the  election  of  the 

policy  and  less  wit,"  and  not  fitted  to  mastership,  to   the   exclusion  of  his 

govern    such    an    Order    (III.    3025).  own  countryman,  Sir  Thomas  Docwra 

But  then  it  must  be  remembered  that  (Nos.  3025,  3026). 

Adrian  spoke  in  the  impotence  of  his  ^  August  28. 


1522.]  THE   SIEGE   OF   KHODES.  589 

palms  in  circumference.^  Shells  filled  with  comhustihles, 
bursting  in  the  air,  and  scattering  fire  on  the  besieged — "  a 
thing  very  inhuman  and  fearful,"  and  little  used  among 
Christians — carried  dismay  among  the  unfortunate  Ehodians. 
By  degrees,  however,  they  grew  accustomed  to  the  danger, 
and  learned  to  avoid  it.  Precautions  also  were  adopted, 
among  others,  the  ringing  of  a  bell,  to  warn  the  inhabitants 
when  an  explosion  was  expected.  So  out  of  2,000  balls  ten 
only  proved  fatal. 

The  vast  numbers  of  the  Turks,  roughly  reckoned  from 
150,000  to  200,000,  enabled  them  to  carry  on  their  opera- 
tions without  intermission,  and  keep  the  besieged  incessantly 
employed.  They  had  already  raised  two  mounds  overtopping 
the  walls  by  ten  or  twelve  feet,  and  advanced  their  works  to 
the  counterscarp.  The  knights  performed  prodigies  of  valour  ; 
even  the  Turkish  slaves  seemed  to  have  been  animated  by 
the  enthusiasm  of  their  masters,  and  to  have  laboured  with 
incredible  activity  and  pertinacity.  The  courage  of  the 
Ehodians  was  kept  alive  by  the  eloquence  of  the  Genoese 
archbishop,  Leonardo  Calestrini,  and  other  rehgious  men  of 
the  town.^  By  the  skill  of  Martinengo,  the  breaches  were 
repaired  as  soon  as  formed.  The  besiegers,  everywhere  driven 
from  their  works,  in  despair  of  making  further  progress  by 
bombardment,  proceeded  to  countermine  the  walls. 

They  had  already  advanced  so  far  in  their  works  that  on 
the  5th  of  September  they  had  blown  up  a  great  part  of  the 
English  bastion,  and  planted  seven  ensigns  on  the  ruins. 
The  Grand  Master  was  engaged  at  the  time  in  hearing  mass 

»  These  dimensions  may  seem  ex-  by  despair.     One  Greek  woman  whose 

aggerated,  but  their  accuracy  is  con-  husband  had  been  slain,  iu  the  ex- 

firmed  by  the  great  oriental  historian,  treniity  of  her  grief,  and  in  dread  of 

Von  Hammer,  who  took  a  voyage  to  the  town  being  taken  by  the  Turk, 

Ehodcs  especially  for  the  purpose  of  cut  the  throats  of  her  two  children, 

ascertaining   these    and    other    facts  and,   throwing  their  bodies  with   all 

connected  with  the  siege.     According  that  she  had  on  a  funeral  pile,  rushed 

to  some  accounts,  the  Turkish  artillery  madly  into  the  ranks  of  the  besiegers, 

consisted    of    six    cannons    perriers,  and      lost      her      life.       Another,     a 

shooting  a  stone  of  3^  feet ;  15  pieces  Spaniard,  who  had  the  reputation  of 

of  iron,  for  stones  of  five  or  six  spans ;  a  saint,  and  had  lately  returned  from 

14  great  bombards,  for  stones  of  11  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  traversed 

spans;  12  pot  guns,  shooting  balls  of  the  streets  of  IJhodes,  barefooted  and 

brass   and    copper   full    of   wild  fire,  poorly  clad,  animating  the  towusp(>oplo 

which  burst  in  the  air,  and  fell  on  the  to  acts  of  bravery,  affirming  that  it 

inhabitants  ;  with  many  other  pieces  had  been  revealed  to  her  from  Heaven, 

of  smaller  dimensions.     See  III.  2841.  that    their    present    suilerings    were 

2  As  has  been  seen  on  more  than  sent  to  them  as  a  scourge  lor  then- 
one  occasion  of  this  kind,  the  women  sins,    but    that   Divine    mercy    would 
distinguished    themselves  greatly  by  never  forsake  theui. 
their    enthusiastic   corn-age,    inspired 


590  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VIII.  [A.D. 

at  the  neighbourmg  chapel.  The  officiating  priest  had  just 
pronounced  the  versicle,  "  Deus,  in  adjutorium  yneum,"  when 
the  whole  town  was  shaken,  by  the  explosion  of  the  mine,  as 
if  by  an  earthquake.  "  I  accept  the  augury,"  exclaimed 
Lisle-Adam,  and  rushing  to  the  breach,  now  filled  with  the 
enemy,  compelled  them  to  give  way.  The  Turks  fell  back 
over  the  battlements  and  the  broken  wall  with  precipitation. 
In  vain  their  general  attempted  to  stem  the  flight  of  the 
fugitives  by  cutting  them  down  with  his  own  sabre.  Knights 
and  townsmen  fought  in  the  breach  without  distinction. 
Whenever  the  Turks  repaired  their  losses  and  renewed  the 
fight  with  fresh  reinforcements,  they  were  met  by  showers  of 
stones,  pitch,  and  sulphur.  Nothing  could  resist  the  impetuous 
onslaught  of  the  Khodians,  whose  courage  was  animated  by 
despair.  At  last  the  Turks,  deaf  to  command,  fled  in  con- 
sternation ;  and  their  own  batteries,  turned  against  the 
retreating  columns,  produced  a  terrible  carnage. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  this  ill  success,  the  assault  was 
renewed  a  few  days  after.  Even  the  Ehodian  historians 
cannot  withhold  their  tribute  of  admiration  for  the  inde- 
fatigable energy  and  undaunted  bravery  displayed  by  the 
Infidels  on  these  occasions.  Fifteen  assaults  were  given  on 
as  many  different  days  in  the  course  of  a  month,  and  with  no 
better  success  than  the  first ;  yet  the  besiegers  were  not  to  be 
disheartened,  nor  did  they  betray  any  symptoms  of  abandon- 
ing the  enterprise.  Their  sufferings  were  great,  their  priva- 
tions increased  as  the  year  advanced ;  reinforcements  were 
daily  expected  by  the  Ehodians  ;  winter  was  coming  on.  To 
abridge  the  protracted  horrors  of  a  siege  scarcely  less  disastrous 
to  the  Turk  than  the  Christian,  Soliman  resolved  by  one 
vigorous  effort  to  make  himself  master  of  the  town.  On  the 
24th  of  September  he  brought  up  into  the  port  of  Ehodes 
a  hundred  galleys  to  support  his  land  forces.  The  Spanish 
and  English  bastions  were  again  selected  as  the  main  points 
of  attack.  An  unusual  excitement  in  the  camp  of  the  besiegers, 
the  evening  before,  led  the  Grand  Master  to  suspect  their 
designs.  But  his  scanty  and  daily  decreasing  numbers  could 
do  little  towards  repairing  their  tottering  defences  ;  and,  worn 
out  with  incessant  fatigue  and  exertion,  they  were  scarcely 
able  to  man  the  walls.  At  daybreak  the  Turk  doubled  the 
strength  of  his  batteries,  and,  under  cover  of  the  smoke, 
advanced  to  the  attack,  assaulting  the  town  in  different 
quarters.     Animated   by  the   presence   of  the    Sultan,    who 


1522.]  THE   SIEGE   OF  RHODES.  591 


beheld  the  fight  from  a  small  eminence  visible  to  the  whole 
army,  the  Tm-ks  fought  with  more  than  usual  vigour.  Their 
commander  was  the  first  to  mount  the  wall,  standard  in  hand, 
when  a  shot  from  the  Ehodian  guns  swept  him  headlong  over 
the  parapet.  Undismayed  at  the  spectacle,  rage,  pity,  and 
revenge  took  possession  of  the  hearts  of  his  followers.  They 
exposed  themelves  recklessl}^  to  danger,  resolved  to  avenge  his 
fate,  and  put  their  enemy  to  the  sword.  Again  and  again 
they  advanced  with  blind  ungovernable  fury.  If  they  recoiled 
a  few  moments  before  the  steady  fire  of  the  Ehodians  and  the 
resistless  lances  of  the  knights,  it  was  only  to  sweep  back 
again,  like  an  angry  wave,  with  greater  might,  and  in  more 
overwhelming  numbers.  Here,  at  the  English  bastion,  the 
press  was  the  greatest,  the  fight  deadliest ;  the  whole  thoughts 
and  energies  of  besiegers  and  besieged  nerved  and  contracted 
to  the  uttermost.  But  whilst  the  attention  of  the  Grand  Master 
and  the  knights  was  thus  fully  occupied  in  one  direction,  a 
body  of  the  Turks  contrived  to  obtain  possession  of  the 
Spanish  bastion  unobserved.  Mounting  the  walls,  they  shouted 
to  their  companions  to  join  them,  and  were  quickly  reinforced. 
An  obstinate  struggle  ensued,  and  lasted  for  six  hours.  The 
Turks,  aware  of  their  advantage,  were  determined  to  maintain 
it.  Inch  by  inch  the  Ehodians  were  driven  back,  and  the 
Tm'kish  standard  floated  on  the  battlement.  Just  then  a 
cross  fire  from  the  Ehodian  guns,  sweeping  the  breach  made 
by  the  enemy,  cut  off  the  approach  of  the  Turkish  reinforce- 
ments. One  of  the  knights,  with  a  handful  of  followers, 
mounting  the  bastion  by  the  casemate,  reached  the  platform 
sword  in  hand.  Falling  on  the  Turks  like  an  exploding 
planet,  he  compelled  them  to  give  way;  cleared  the  walls, 
turned  the  fire  of  the  guns  against  those  who  were  preparing 
to  scale,  tore  down  the  enemy's  standards,  and  rescued  the 
town  from  its  most  imminent  danger.  Women  and  children, 
the  sick  and  the  wounded,  took  part  in  this  dreadful  action, 
as  vigorously  pressed  as  it  was  obstinately  resisted.  Those 
who  were  too  young  or  too  feeble  for  manlier  tasks  supplied 
the  defenders  with  bread  and  wine ;  the  stronger  piled  up 
earth  and  stones  to  assist  in  repairing  the  breaches,  or  to 
serve  in  annoying  the  assailants.  The  fight  had  lasted  six 
hours  when  the  Grand  Master,  cautiously  withdrawing  200 
fresh  men  from  the  tower  of  St.  Nicholas,  compelled  the 
janissaries  to  give  way,  but  not  until  they  had  loi't  15,000  of 
their  comrades  dead  in  the  foss  or  on  the  ramparts. 


592  THE  KEIGN   OF   HEXEY   YIII.  [A.D. 

Foiled  at  all  points,  Soliman  resolved  to  abandon  the  siege. 
He  had  already  lost  several  of  his  bravest  bashaws,  more  than 
100  standards,  and  60,000  of  his  janissaries.  He  was  per- 
suaded by  an  Albanian  renegade,  who  had  stolen  out  of  the 
town,  to  persevere  in  his  efforts,  as  the  Ehodians  were  reduced 
to  great  extremities,  and  had  nothing  left  but  bread  and  water. 
Of  the  knights,  300  only  survived  ;  and  the  rest  of  the  garrison 
scarcely  amounted  to  3,000.-^ 

From  time  to  time  rumours  had  penetrated  the  nearest 
ports  of  Europe  of  the  heroic  and  hopeless  defence  of  the 
knights.  By  letters  from  Candia,  two  days  since,  writes 
Hannibal,  then  at  Eome,  to  Wolsey,^  "  the  Pope  has  word 
that  the  Turk  hath  given  two  cruel  assaults,  and  they  of  the 
city  doubt  sore  of  the  third.  They  had  never  so  little  pro- 
vision within  the  city  as  they  have  now."  There  is  no  news, 
writes  another  correspondent,  some  time  after,  except  from 
Ehodes,  which  is  being  besieged,  and  in  great  extremities ; 
the  Turks  press  the  siege,  though  they  have  lost  60,000  men.^ 
But  with  these  came  other  and  conflicting  reports ;  that  the 
Turk,  despairing  of  success,  had  resolved  to  abandon  his 
attempt ;  that  he  had  put  his  bashaws  to  death,  in  a  fit  of 
rage  ;  and  his  troops  were  on  the  eve  of  rebellion.  And  even 
the  long  and  animated  defence  of  the  Ehodians  flattered  the 
hopes  of  men  at  a  distance,  whose  minds  were  idly  stirred  by 
tales  of  suffering  and  endurance  from  which  they  were  them- 
selves exempt. 

Lisle-Adam  had  not  failed,  in  this  extremity,  to  send  out 
messengers  to  procure  additional  supplies,  and  quicken  the 
sympathy  and  aid  of  the  Pope  and  the  princes  of  Christendom. 
But  Adrian,  as  we  have  seen,  was  in  no  capacity  to  do  more 
than  weep,  and  recommend  their  cause  to  the  charity  of 
others.  Unhappily  also  it  seemed  as  if  Heaven  and  the 
elements  had  combined  for  their  destruction.  A  convoy  laden 
with  men  and  provisions,  which  had  started  from  Marseilles 
under  the  orders  of  certain  French  knights,  encountered  a 
storm,  and  never  reached  its  destination.  The  succours 
collected  by  another  of  their  number,  Sir  Thomas  Newport, 
were  lost  by  a  similar  casualty.  The  Prior  of  St.  Martin, 
returning  with  reinforcements,  fell  in  with  the  Turkish  galleys 
before  he  could  enter  the  port  of  Ehodes,  and  was  compelled 
to  abandon  his  enterprise.     Left  to  their  fate,  deprived  of  all 

»  See  III.  2775,  2818.  «  September  12,  III.  2539. 

*  Gilberti  to  Wolsev ;  III.  2775. 


1522.]  THE   SIEGE   OF   RHODES.  593 

assistance,  the  knights  resolved  to  sell  their  lives  dearly,  and 
die  rather  than  fall  into  the  hands  of  their  enemies. 

Taught  caution  by  experience,  the  Turk  abandoned  his 
previous  tactics,  and  confined  himself  to  undermining  the 
walls.  His  chief  efforts  were  directed,  as  before,  to  the 
English  and  Spanish  bastions.  Notwithstanding  the  diihcult 
uatm-e  of  the  ground,  the  ingenious  defences  of  Martinengo, 
and  the  resistance  of  the  knights,  the  works  steadily  advanced. 
The  town  was  fast  becoming  a  mere  wreck.  If  we  may  trust 
the  historians  of  the  time,  it  had  been  pierced  and  honey- 
combed by  sixty  different  mines.  The  steeples  of  the  churches 
had  been  beaten  down  ;  the  wall  of  the  English  and  Spanish 
bastion  was  levelled  with  the  barbican.  By  the  17th  of 
October  the  enemy  had  turned  the  defences  of  the  English 
quarter,  and,  ammunition  failing,  met  with  little  resistance 
from  the  Spanish.  To  add  to  their  misfortunes,  Martinengo 
was  disabled  by  a  stray  shot  in  the  eye,  and  could  no  longer 
direct  the  defences.  According  to  Lisle-Adam  they  had 
already  made  such  a  breach  in  the  wall  that  thirty  or  forty 
horsemen  could  enter  abreast,  and  had  carried  their  trenches 
150  paces  within  the  town.-^  Once  more,  therefore,  on  St. 
Andrew's  eve  (29th  of  November)  the  Turks  advanced  in  great 
numbers  to  the  breach,  resolved  to  carry  the  town  by  assault ; 
but  they  were  again  driven  back,  leaving  11,000  of  their  men 
dead  upon  the  field.  The  loss  of  the  Ehodians  amounted 
to  180. 

"  After  that  day,"  says  Eoberts,  ''the  Turks  pm-posed  to 
give  us  no  more  battle,  but  to  come  into  our  town  by  trenches, 
insomuchthat  tbey  made  .  .  }  great  trenches,  and  by  the  space 
of  a  month  did  come  almost  into  the  midst  of  our  town,  inso- 
much that  there  lay  nightly  within  our  town  .  .  .  thousand 
Turks.  The  trenches'  were  covered  with  thick  tables,  and  holes 
made  in  them  for  their  spingardes,  that  we  could  not  approach 
them.  And  a  month  after  that,  [though]  we  saw  precisely  that 
the  town  was  lost,  we  would  never  give  over,  in  esperance  of 
succors.  And  at  such  time  as  we  saw  that  there  came  no  succors, 
nor  no  succors  ready  to  come,  and  considering  that  the  most 
part  of  our  men  were  slain,  [and  that]  we  had  no  j^owder,  nor 
no  manner  of  ammunition  or  victuals,  but  alonely  bread  and 
water,  we  were  as  men  desperate  and  determined  to  die  upon 

'  Letter  to  his  nephew  Rochepot       below. 
Montmorenci,  iV(%oc7ah'ons  d«  l/cvanfe,  -The     letter     is,    unfortunately, 

i.    94.      See   also   Nicholas    Roberts,       mutilated  in  this  and  otlier  jilucos. 

VOL.  I.  2  Q 


594  THE   KEIGN    OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

them  in  the  field,  rather  than  to  be  put  upon  stakes  ;  for  we 
thought  not  that  he  would  give  us  our  lives,  considering  that 
there  were  slain  so  many  of  his  men.  And  in  the  mean 
season  they  came  to  parlement  with  us,  and  did  ask  of  us 
whether  we  would  make  any  partido,  and  said  that  the  Great 
Turk  was  content  that  if  we  would  give  him  the  walls  of  the 
town  he  would  give  us  our  lives  and  our  goods.  The 
commonalty  of  the  town  hearing  this  great  proffer,  came  to 
the  Lord  Master,  and  said  that,  considering  that  the  .  .  .  and 
strength  of  the  town  is  taken,  and  all  the  munition  spent,  and 
the  most  part  of  your  knights  and  men  slain,  and  also  seeing 
there  is  no  succors  ready  to  come,  we  determine  to  accept  this 
partido  that  the  Great  Turk  giveth  us,  for  the  lives  of  our 
wives  and  children.  The  Lord  Master,  hearing  the  opinion 
of  the  whole  commonalty  was  to  take  the  partido,  fell  down 
almost  dead ;  and  what  time  he  recovered  himself,  he  seeing 
them  continue  in  the  same  mind,  consented  to  the  same." 
According  to  Lisle-Adam's  letter,  already  quoted,  Soliman 
further  offered  to  treat  with  lenity  such  of  the  inhabitants  as 
chose  to  remain ;  they  were  to  continue  free  of  all  tribute  for 
five  years,  and  their  children  exempt  from  serving  as  janis- 
saries, as  was  usual  in  other  parts  of  Greece.  He  adds  that 
this  liberal  offer  of  Soliman  was  due  to  Divine  grace,  "  seeing 
the  advantage  the  enemy  had  over  us,  the  injury  and  expense 
he  had  incurred  by  the  siege,  during  which  we  had  no  aid  or 
succour  except  from  God  only."  On  the  knights'  side  there 
had  fallen  700,  on  the  Turks'  more  than  80,000,  by  war  or 
sickness. 

To  settle  the  preliminaries  of  the  treaty  a  deputation  was 
appointed  to  wait  upon  the  Grand  Seignior,  of  whom  Nicholas 
Eoberts  was  one.^  He  found  Soliman  "  in  a  red  pavilion, 
standing  between  two  gold  lions,  marvellous  rich  and 
sumptuous,  sitting  in  a  chair,  and  no  creature  with  him  in  the 
pavilion  ;  which  chair  was  of  gold,  and  the  work  of  fine  gold  ; 
his  guards  standing  [outside],  to  the  number  of  22  ...  ; 
they  be  called  Sulakys.  This  number  is  continually  about 
his  person.  He  hath  the  number  of  40,000  of  them.  They 
wear  on  their  heads  a  long  white  cap,  and  at  the  top  of  the 
cap  the  white  ostrich  feather,  which  giveth  great  show." 

The  preliminaries  were  interrupted  by  the  dissatisfaction 
of  the  townspeople,  who  now  refused  what  they  had  before 
desired;  and  the  siege  recommenced.    On  the  17th  of  Decem- 

»  See  III.  3026. 


1522.]  THE   SIEGE   OF   EHODES.  595 

ber  an  engagement  took  place,  but  negociations  were  again 
resumed  at  the  instance  of  the  citizens,  and  terminated  on 
the  28th  of  December.  It  was  agreed  that  24  knights  should 
be  given  as  hostages.  A  band  of  4,000  janissaries  were  sent 
to  take  possession  of  the  town,  and,  if  we  may  believe  the 
Christian  historians,  committed  great  cruelties  and  excesses. 
They  broke  up  the  tombs  of  the  knights,  destroyed  the  images 
in  the  churches,  and  turned  the  sick  and  wounded  out  of  the 
hospitals. 

But  such  barbarities  must  not  be  attributed  to  Soliman. 
In  his  treatment  of  the  Grand  Master  there  was  a  mixture  of 
barbarism  and  dignity,  of  tenderness  and  heedlessness,  such 
as  history  has  taught  us  to  expect  in  Oriental  monarchs.  On 
one  occasion  he  allowed  the  Grand  Master,  who  was  advanced 
in  years,  to  stand  before  his  tent  from  daybreak,  for  many 
hours,  in  a  dense  shower  of  rain  and  hail,  without  offering 
him  any  refreshment.  When  the  two  met,  they  regarded  each 
other  for  some  time  with  silent  admiration  ;  Soliman  suffered 
his  hand  to  be  kissed  by  the  Grand  Master,  and  urged  him  to 
enter  the  Turkish  service.  Complimenting  the  Sultan  on 
his  generosity,  Lisle-Adam  replied  that  a  ruler  ought  to  incur 
any  indignity  rather  than  abandon  his  peoj^le  in  misfortune ; 
a  sentiment  in  which  Soliman  concurred,  and  dismissed  the 
Grand  Master  with  respect,  presenting  him,  and  each  of  the 
knights  who  attended  him,  with  a  scarlet  robe. 

On  another  occasion  Soliman  entered  the  city,  and,  visiting 
the  Grand  Master  unexpectedly,  found  him  engaged  in  making 
preparations  for  his  departure.  As  the  Grand  Master  would 
have  fallen  on  his  knees,  Soliman  forbade  him ;  and  moving 
slightly  his  fez  with  his  right  hand — a  species  of  reverence 
never  paid  by  the  Turkish  Sultans  except  to  God  and  their 
Prophet — he  addressed  the  Grand  Master  with  the  word 
"  Babba  "  (Father),  a  term  of  the  highest  regard  and  affection. 
I  would  rather  not  believe  Fontani,  who  says  that  the  Sultan 
had  given  secret  orders  to  put  the  Grand  Master  and  the  rest 
of  the  knights  on  board  a  war  gallej^,  and  carry  them  oft'  to 
Constantinople.  At  the  same  time  it  must  be  admitted  that 
such  tokens  of  Eastern  affection  have  been  often  reported, 
and  can  scarcely  be  wholly  devoid  of  foundation.  The  same 
writer,  who  had  seen  the  Turk  on  horseback,  though  he  did 
not  admire  his  manner  of  riding,  admits  that  Soliman  was 
not  deficient  in  dignity.  In  complexion  he  was  slightly 
bronzed,  was  erect  in  stature,  and,  notwithstanding  his  black 


596  THE   KEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [AD.  1522. 

and  rather   fierce   eyes,   had  a   pleasant   and    commanding 
comitenance. 

After  many  hardships  by  sea,  the  Imights  landed  in  Crete. 
They  reached  Messina  in  the  May  following ;  thence  to  Eome, 
where  Lisle-Adam  was  met  on  his  arrival  by  the  cardinals 
and  others,  and  conducted  to  the  Vatican  amidst  the  universal 
sympathy  of  the  spectators.^ 

^  A  letter  from  the  Sultau  to  his       surrender  of  the  island,  will  be  found 
ood   friends    the    Venetians,    dated       in  the  Lettere  di  Principi,  ii.  p.  35, 
from  Rhodes,  Dec.  29,  announcing  the       ed.  1557. 


(     597     ) 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LUTHER   AND    HENRY   VIII. 

Is  there  a  conservation  and  transmission  of  force  in  the  moral 
as  well  as  the  phj^sical  world  ?  Whilst  politicians  were  thus 
tormenting  themselves  and  others  with  ingenious  and  barren 
combinations,  whilst  the  old  props  and  buttresses  of  Christen- 
dom appeared  to  be  fast  crumbling  to  decay,  there  was  growing 
up  a  new  power  in  an  obscure  and  forgotten  corner,  which, 
like  the  Tm'k  himself,  seemed  to  gather  life  out  of  death,  and 
thrive  on  the  ruin  and  confusion  of  the  times. 

Among  the  latest  and  the  least  esteemed  of  the  religious 
communities  of  Europe  was  the  Saxon  Congregation  of 
Augustinian  friars.^  It  had  given  no  doctors  of  eminence  to 
the  schools,  like  other  Orders,  no  popes  or  rulers  to  the 
Church.  Founded  at  the  close  of  the  15th  century,  dis- 
tinguished by  its  poverty,  its  spirit  of  independence  and  fervid 
religious  zeal,  it  was  regarded  with  suspicion  even  by  the 
general  body  to  which  it  nominally  belonged.  For  two 
centuries  the  Dominican  and  Franciscan  had  ruled  absolutely 
over  the  realm  of  thought  and  theological  speculation.  If 
popes  were  its  ostensible  heads,  the  masters  of  the  schools 
commanded  its  real  obedience.  Professing  a  nominal  submis- 
sion to  established  rules  of  faith,  they  had  habituated  their 
own  minds  and  those  of  their  followers  to  the  freest  and  most 
daring  speculations.  What  doubts  have  since  been  mooted, 
what  difficulties  suggested,  in  morals,  religion,  or  politics, 
during  three  centuries  of  unfettered  religious  inquiry,  which 
they,  the  schoolmen,  have  not  anticipated  and  dissected  with 
the  calmness  of  scientific  anatomists  ?  The  real  precursors  of 
the  Pieformation,  which,  after  their  labours,  had  become  in- 
evitable, with  a  subtlety,  patience,  and  "  unwearied  travail  of 

'  Luther  was  born   in   1483,  and       two,  at  the  time  when  Staupitz  was 
entered     the    order    of   Augustinian       its  Vicar-Genera). 
Eremite  friars  at  the  age  of  twenty- 


598 


THE   REIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI. 


[A.D. 


wit,"  never  surpassed,  they  had  pierced  and  drilled,  by  their 
"  vermiculate  questions,"  the  solid  body  of  the  general  belief, 
until  under  the  guise  of  its  defenders  they  had  become  its 
most  dangerous  enemies.  Every  form  of  difficulty  or  error 
which  had  ever  entered  the  brains  of  others  or  themselves, 
had  been  so  carefully  stated,  so  laboriously  refuted,  that 
doubts  which  might  have  died  of  themselves,  or  have  obtained 
at  best  a  narrow  and  precarious  existence,  gained  a  fatal 
immortality  and  activity  by  their  writings.  For  error  is  too 
subtle  to  yield  to  dialectics ;  and  such  is  the  perverseness  of 
the  human  mind,  the  poison  remains  when  the  antidote  is 
Long  since  the  time  had  passed  away  when  the 


forgotten.^ 

*  There  is  a  profound  remark  by 
Lord  Bacon  on  the  inefficiency  of  the 
scholastic  method,  and  its  tendency 
to  propagate  error.  "  Were  it  not 
better,"  he  says,  "  for  a  man  in  a  fair 
room  to  set  up  one  great  light  .  .  . 
than  to  go  about  with  a  small  watch 
candle  into  every  corner  ?  "  For,  he 
observes,  "  as  you  carry  the  light  into 
one  corner  you  darken  the  rest."  As 
the  candle  travels  in  succession  from 
question  to  question,  the  ghost  of 
dead  errors  revive  in  the  dark,  and 
are  invested  with  gigantic  propor- 
tions. That  central  light  which 
reason  could  not  supply,  Luther 
claimed  for  faith,  as  the  sun  of  reason. 
And  here  I  may  be  allowed  to  remark 
on  the  close  analogy  in  the  mental 
pose  of  Luther  and  Bacon ;  with  this 
difference — that  whilst  the  latter  was 
exclusively  interested  with  the  relation 
of  man  to  nature  and  her  kingdom, 
Luther's  sole  concern  was  the  relation 
of  man  to  God  and  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven.  In  both  there  was  the  same 
intense  dislike  to  abstract  specula- 
tion, however  ingenious  :  the  same  dis- 
trust of  the  mere  intellectiial  powers  ; 
the  same  hatred  of  Aristotle  and  the 
habits  of  thought  engendered  by  the 
study  of  the  Greek  philosopher.  That 
nuditas  onwni,  which  Bacon  considered 
indispensable  for  the  successful  pro- 
seciition  of  natural  knowledge,  was 
with  Luther  a  necessary  condition 
for  religious  truth.  "  Knowledge," 
says  Lord  Bacon,  "  is  the  double  of 
that  which  is;  "  and  the  highest  per- 
fection of  man  is  to  reflect  exactly, 
not  his  own  thoughts,  biit  the  external 
realities  of  nature.  So  in  Luther's 
conception,  the  perfect  righteousness 
of  man  is  the  mere  and  passive  mirror 
of  the  righteousness  of  God,  which  is 


revealed  in  those  who  are  willing  to 
accept  it  by  faith.  But  though  both 
of  these  philosophers  insisted  upon 
the  worthlessness  of  our  human 
powers  per  se — though  both  asserted 
that  man  has  nothing  but  what  he 
receives,  and  God's  goodness  and 
grace  are  infinite, — they  never  sup- 
posed that  it  was  indifferent  how  that 
goodness  was  sought ;  or  that  a  wrong 
method  of  seekingit,  however  laborious 
or  conscientious,  could  be  crowned 
with  success.  Wrong  methods  of 
investigation  in  the  natural  world 
lead  only  to  error  and  confusion.  So 
is  it  in  the  world  of  grace.  "  Claudus 
in  via  antevertit  cursorem  extra  viam," 
observes  Lord  Bacon  ;  a  truth  which 
Luther  repeats  in  his  own  particular 
phraseology  again  and  again.  It  was 
this  conviction,  and  his  strong  sense 
of  the  mischief  occasioned  by  the 
opposite  error,  which  lent  such  force 
and  energy  to  his  language.  It  was 
the  wrong  method  of  the  popular 
religion,  more  than  the  barrenness, 
despondency,  and  immorality  en- 
gendered by  it,  which  seemed  so 
heinous  to  him,  aud  worthy  of  the 
severest  denunciations.  Whether  he 
was  right  or  wrong ;  whether  by  the 
full  blaze  of  the  truth  which  he  saw  he 
was  in  some  degree  blinded,  not  unlike 
Bacon,  and  unable  to  do  full  justice 
to  other  sides  of  it ; — I  have  not  to 
inquire.  But  if  this  account  be  true, 
he  must  be  accorded  the  position  of  a 
great  and  original  thinker.  He  was 
not,  like  many  of  his  contemporaries, 
a  denouncer  of  errors  merely — a  Thor 
with  a  hammer  of  destruction  of  more 
than  usual  power  and  pretension,  as 
he  is  too  often  represented ;  but  the 
constructive  side  of  his  teaching  is 
not   less   important    to   man   in    his 


1522.]  LUTHER'S   SCHOLASTIC   TRAINING.  599 

simple  Franciscan  or  zealous  Dominican  thought  his  mission 
fulfilled  if  he  brought  back  into  the  fold  the  erring  flock  and 
ignorant  multitudes  of  populous  towns.  His  real  kingdom 
was  the  battle-field  of  the  schools,  and  there  he  claimed  to 
rule  alone  by  the  undivided  supremacy  of  his  intellect. 

It  was  fortunate,  perhaps,  for  Luther's  independence  of 
thought  and  action  that  he  did  not  enroll  himself  in  either  of 
these  more  eminent  Orders,  where  his  ardour,  his  indefatigable 
industrj^  and  extraordinary  logical  acuteness,  might  have  found 
a  congenial  sphere  and  unremitting  occupation.  Popular 
wi-iters  are  fond  of  insisting  on  the  more  obvious  side  of  his 
character — on  his  courage,  his  homeliness,  his  broad  humour 
— overlooking  the  influences  of  his  scholastic  training,  his 
logical  acuteness,  his  love  of  foiling  his  opponents  with  their 
own  weapons, — weapons  which  he  had  learned  to  wield  with 
more  abilit}^  than  they.  For  no  man  was  better  versed  than 
he  in  the  writings  of  the  schoolmen,  none  knew  better  than  he 
their  weakest  points,  their  most  flagrant  contradictions.  For 
the  few  grains  of  precious  ore  that  might  perchance  be  found 
he  had,  with  unslaked  thirst  and  unbiassed  assiduity,  turned 
over  and  sifted  the  controversial  dust-heaps  of  the  day.  Every- 
W'here  he  shows  himself  much  better  versed  in  that  learning 
he  is  accused  of  impugning  than  his  opponents  who  undertake 
to  defend  it.  He  is  more  at  home  with  the  Canonists  than 
the  cardinals  themselves ;  more  familiar  than  the  most 
approved  teachers  of  his  time  with  the  subjects  of  their  teach- 
ing. For  between  him  and  them  there  was  this  vital  difference 
■ — ^of  men  who  had  painfully  toiled  with  no  higher  motive  than 
Ijrofessional  responsibility,  or  desire  of  fame,  and  the  fainting 
wretch,  sick  with  the  love  of  truth,  who  must  die  or  find  it, 
indifferent  to  all  other  considerations.  That  truth  exists,  that 
it  is  to  be  found,  that  it  passes  all  price,  is  the  spur  to  exertion 
in  such  men.  It  is  the  sustaining  energy  against  their  own 
weakness  and  hesitation,  the  opposition  of  the  world,  the 
serried  ranks  of  prejudice  and  error,  the  clouds  and  darkness 
which  seem  to  settle  down  at  midday  on  their  plainest  path. 
That  is  the  faith  of  all  great  pioneers  for  truth — a  faith  after- 
wards enunciated  by  Luther  in  terms  more  precise  and  theo- 
logical, but  which  was  working  in  him,  perhaps  unconsciously, 
long  before  his  controversy  with  Tetzel  or  his  rejection  of  the 
Papal  authority. 

divine  relations  than  the  rules  of  in-       well-being, 
ductive  philosophy  are  to  his  scientific 


6IJ0 


THE  KEIGN  OF  HENRY  VIII. 


[A.D. 


It  has  been  tliou2;lit  that  the  success  of  the  Eeformation 
was  mainly  due  to  the  purity  of  the  morahty  it  inculcated,  or 
rather  to  the  general  corruption  of  all  classes — of  the  clergy 
in  particular — in  the  fifteenth  century.  The  declamations  of 
moralists  and  theologians,  the  invectives  of  satirists,  even 
the  evidence  of  criminal  courts,  on  such  a  subject  as  this, 
whether  in  the  16th  or  the  19th  century,  are  too  partial  to 
be  decisive.  Neither  authentic  documents,  nor  the  literature 
and  character  of  the  times,  nor,  if  national  ethics  are 
essentially  connected  with  national  art,  its  artistic  tendencies,  , 
warrant  us  in  believing  that  the  era  preceding  the  Eeformation  ' 
was  more  corrupt  than  that  which  succeeded  it.-^  It  is  im- 
possible that  the  clergy  can  have  been  universally  immoral, 
and  the  laity  have  remained  sound,  temperate,  and  loyal. 
But  if  these  general  arguments  are  not  sufficient,  I  refer  my 
readers  to  a  very  curious  document,  dated  the  8th  of  July, 
1519,^  when  a  search  was  instituted  by  different  commissioners, 
on  Sunday  night,  in  London  and  its  suburbs,  for  all  suspected 
and  disorderly  i:)ersons.  I  fear  no  parish  in  London,  nor  any 
town  in  the  United  Kingdom,  of  the  same  amount  of  popula- 
tion, would  at  this  day  pass  a  similar  ordeal  with  equal  credit. 

But,  however  this  may  be,  it  is  clear  from  the  writings  of 
Luther  himself  during  these  three  years,  and  still  more  from 
his  most  celebrated  work  De  Captivltate  Babylonica,  that  he 
did  not  rest  his  teaching  on  the  moral,  but  the  theological 
aspect  of  the  questions  in  dispute.  To  the  latter,  not  to  the 
former  phase,  was  it  indebted  for  its  popularity.  It  might  be 
a  more  than  Babylonish  captivity,  that  the  Church  should 
disfigure  the  doctrine  of  the  Sacraments  ;  that  it  should  deter- 
mine of  its  own  authority  their  nature,  and  the  mode  of  their 
administration ;  should  give  them  here,  and  withhold  them 
there,  as  a  tyrant  over  God's  heritage :  but  the  immorality 
consisted  in  the  slavery,  not  in  the  consequences  to  which 
that  slavery  had  led — in  the  confusion  between  things  divine 
and  human,  with  which  the  Pope  for  his  own  purposes  had 
succeeded  in  perplexing  the  consciences  of  men.^ 


^  Consider  these  names  :  Leonardo 
da  Vinci,  1452-1520  ;  Alb.  Durer, 
1471-1528;  Raphael,  1483-1520;  Del 
Sarto,  1483-1525;  Michael  Angelo, 
1474-1564.  In  other  subjects,  Luther 
himself,  1484-1546  ;  Erasmus,  1467- 
1536  ;  Copernicus,  1473-1543  ;  Picus 
of  Mirandola,  1463-1496. 

-  III.  365. 


^  In  this  celebrated  treatise,  which 
contains  the  essential  rudiments  of 
the  writer's  doctrine,  Luther  reduces 
all  sacraments  strictly  to  one ;  sc. 
faith  in  the  Word ;  that  is,  in  the 
promises  of  God,  confirmed  to  man  by 
the  death  of  His  Son  : — other  sacra- 
ments, as  they  are  called,  are  no  more 


than 


and    emblems    of    those 


1522.]  THE   KING'S   BOOK.  601 

The  dispute  with  Tetzel  might  have  been  forgiven ;  the 
burning  of  the  Pope's  bulls  might  have  been  attributed  to  the 
rude  and  rough  extravagance  of  the  German  ;  but  Luther's 
attack  on  the  cardinal  doctrine  of  Sacrifice — interwoven  as  it 
was,  not  merely  with  the  accepted  tlieology  of  the  day,  but 
•with  all  that  was  lovely  and  attractive,  in  the  self-abasement, 
loyalty,  and  devotion  of  the  old  world — could  not  be  mistaken, 
or  its  purpose  overlooked.  The  sentence  had  gone  forth  to 
the  world  that  all  sacrifice  had  been  abolished  in  one  great 
sacrifice,  all  action  absorbed  in  one  great  suffering  and  satisfac- 
tion. It  was  more  blessed  to  believe  than  do,  to  receive  than 
to  give ;  for  the  empty  hands  of  faith  were  more  acceptable  in 
God's  sight  than  the  full  hecatombs  of  charity.  Christendom 
stood  aghast ;  its  deepest  emotions  were  roused.  Not  only 
was  the  veil  rudely  torn  away  from  the  sanctuary  it  had 
hitherto  regarded  with  distant  awe  and  unquestioning  rever- 
ence, but  that  sanctuary  itself  and  its  services  w^ere  now  held 
up  to  the  world  as  no  better  than  a  whited  sepulchre,  the  court 
of  Death,  the  stronghold  of  Antichrist. 

Some  time  before  the  appearance  of  this  celebrated  treatise, 
Henry  had  determined  to  signalize  his  theological  acquire- 
ments and  his  devotion  to  the  Church  by  writing  against  the 
prevailing  heresies  of  the  times.  That  he  had  entertained 
this  intention  at  an  early  period  of  Luther's  career  is  plain 
from  a  letter  of  Pace  to  Wolsey,  dated  the  24th  of  June,  1518, 
in  which  the  writer  refers  to  the  commendations  given  by 
Wolsey  to  the  King's  book.  He  states,  as  from  his  Majesty, 
that  though  the  King  does  not  think  it  deserving  of  so  much 
praise  as  it  had  received  from  the  Cardinal  and  other  "great 
learned  men,"  yet  he  is  glad  to  have  "  noted  in  your  Grace's 
letters  that  his  reasons  be  called  inevitable,  considering  that 
yom-  Grace  was  some  time  his  adversary  herein,  and  of 
contrary  opinion."^  It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  the  King 
must  have  been  employed  some  time  before  the  date  of  this 
letter,  on  his  self-appointed  task. 

The  authors  of  the  history  of  the  Augustinian  Friars  claim 
for  Bernard  Andre,  the  poet,  the  credit  of  engaging  the  King 
in   this   novel   path   of  theological   controversy.      Whatever 

promises,  inKtitutcd  to  encourage  and  is  not  of  faitli  is  sin ;  "  i.e.  is  common 

confirm  men's  faith.     Faith,  then,  or  to  the  Gentile  and  unrcgencrate. 
belief  in  those  promises,  is  that  which  '   II.  4257.     This  is  confirmed  by 

constitutes  the  peculiar  sacrifice,  the  a  subsequent  letter  written  four  days 

life,  the  work  of  a  Christian,  in  strict  after.     No.  4206. 
language.     In  this  sense,  "  whatever 


602  THE   EEIGN   OF  HENRY  VIH.  ^  [A.D.  • 

might  have  been  Henry's  intentions  in  the  first  instance,  they 
received  a  fresh  impulse  and  a  more  definite  direction  in  1520, 
by  the  appearance  of  Luther's  treatise  De  Captivitate  Bahy- 
lonica.     The  opinions  of  Luther  had  akeady  gained  so  much 
notoriety  that  Tunstal,  then  at  Worms,  states  in  a  letter  to 
Cardinal   Wolsey^   that   the   Germans   were   so   addicted   to 
Luther,  that,  rather  than  he  should  be  oppressed  by  the  Pope's        i 
authority,   who  had   already   condemned  his   opinions,   they         ! 
were  resolved  to  spend  a  hundred  thousand  of  their  lives  in 
his  defence.     "  He  hath  written  a  book,"  says  Tunstal,  "  since 
his  condemnation,  De  Captivitate  Bahylonica  Ecclesice,  wherein 
he  holdeth  that  four  of  the  sacraments  be  only  de  jure  positivo, 
by  the   Pope's   ordinance,   so  called,  viz.  Confirmatio,  Ordo, 
Extrema    Unctio,    and   Matrimonium ;    and   that   Baptismus,         \ 
Eucharistia,  and   Pwnitentia,  be   de  jure  divino  et  evangelii.         ' 
They  say  there  is  much  more  strange  opinion  in  it,  near  to         j 
the  opinions  of  Boheme.     I  pray  God  keep  that  book  out  of 
England." 

In  spite  of  Tunstal' s  warnings,  before  April,  1521,  the  \ 
dreaded  book  had  found  its  way  into  England.  On  the  21st 
of  that  month  Pace  writes  to  Wolsey  :  "  At  mine  arrival  to  the 
King  this  morning,  I  found  him  looking  upon  a  book  of 
Luther's.  And  his  Grace  showed  unto  me  that  it  was  a  new  j 
work  of  the  said  Luther's.  I  looked  upon  the  title  thereof, 
and  perceived  by  the  same  that  it  is  the  same  book  put  into 
print  which  your  Grace  sent  unto  him  by  me  written."  After 
some  further  conversation,  he  assured  the  Cardinal  that  "  the 
King  was  very  joyous  to  have  these  tidings  from  the  Pope's 
Holiness  at  such  time  as  he  had  taken  upon  him  the  defence 
of  Christ's  Church  with  his  pen ;" — and  had  resolved  to 
"  make  an  end  therein  the  sooner." 

This  letter  was  followed  by  another  from  the  King  himself, 
on  the  21st  of  May,  to  Leo  X.,  in  which  he  expresses  his  ' 
anxiety  to  suppress  the  Lutheran  heresy ;  and,  to  testify  his 
zeal  for  the  Faith,  he  proposes  to  dedicate  to  the  Pope  this 
the  first  offspring  of  his  intellect,  that  all  men  may  see  he  is 
as  ready  to  defend  the  Church  with  his  pen  as  with  his  sword. 

Notwithstanding  this  urgent  speed,  the  King's  book  was 
not  completed  until  the  25th  of  August,  1521,^  i^robably  in 

*  January  19,  1521 ;  from  a  letter  to    the     Society    of    Jesus     College, 

preserved  in  Master's  collections  for  Oxford.    See  Appendix  to  this  volume. 

Lord    Herbert's    history.       I    am    in-  No.  III. 
debted  for  the  use  of  this  manuscript  *  III.  1510. 


15'22.J  THE   KING'S   BOOK.  603 

consequence  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  trial.     Then  Wolsej' 
writes  to  Clerk  that  the  King's  book  is  completed,  and  he 
sends  the  ambassador  directions  how  it  is  to  be  presented  to 
the  Pope.     Clerk  is  to  deliver  a  copy  of  it,  privately,  to  his 
Holiness,  covered  with  cloth  of  gold,  and  subscribed  by  the 
King's  own  hand  ; — "  wherein  the  King's  grace  hath  devised 
and  made  two  verses  inserted  in  the  said  book  by  the  King's 
own  hand."     If,  on  perusal,  it  was  approved  by  the  Pope,  the 
ambassador  is  charged  to  have  it  set  forth  with  the  papal 
authority,  and  request  leave  to  present  it  publicly  in  full  con- 
sistor}'  there  to  receive  the  papal  sanction.     With  this  despatch 
Clerk  received  twenty-eight  copies  in  the  month  of  September.^ 
One  of  them,  bound  with  cloth  of  gold  as  directed,  he  presented 
to  Leo — "the  trim  decking"  of  which  his  Holiness  liked  very 
well ;   and,  opening  it,  read  successively  jQve  leaves  of  the  in- 
troduction "without   interruption."      "And,   as  I  suppose," 
adds  Clerk,   "  he  would  never  a'  ceased  till  he  had  read  it 
over."     "  At  such  j)laces  as  he  liked,  and  that  seemed  to  be 
at  every  second  line,  he  made  ever  some  demonstration,  vel 
niitu  vel  verbo  ;  whereby  it  appeared  that  he  had  great  pleasure 
in  reading.     And  when  his  Holiness  had  read  a  great  season 
I  assure  your  Grace  he  gave  the  book  a  great  commendation, 
and  said  there  was  therein  much  wit  and  clerkly  conveyance  ; 
and  how  that  there  were  many  great  clerks  that  had  written 
in  the  matter,  but  this  book  should  seem  to  pass  all  theirs. 
His  Holiness  said  that  he  would  not  'a  thought  that  such  a 
book  should  have  come  from  the  King's  grace,  who  hath  been 
occupied  necessarily  in  other  feats,   seeing  that  other  men 
which  hath  occupied  themselves  in  study  all  their  lives  cannot 
bring  forth  the  like."     Then,  taking  the  book  from  the  Pope's 
hand.  Clerk  drew  his  attention  to  the  verses  written  by  the 
King  in  honor  of  his  Holiness;  "  and  because  the  King's  grace 
had  written  the  said  verses  with  a  very  small  pen,  and  because 
I  knew  the  Pope  to  be  of  a  very  dull  sight,  I  would  have  read 
unto  his  Holiness  the  said  verses  ;  and  his  Holiness,  quadam 
aviditate  legendi,  took  the  book  from  me,  and  read  the  said 
verses  three  times  very  promptly,  to  my  great  marvel,  and 
commended  them  singularly."  '^ 

*  III.  1574.  The    famous   verses    are    as    fol- 

*  The  Asserfio  was  printed  at  Lon-       lows  : — 

don  by  Richard  Pynson,  July  12,  1521.       ,,.1  tt       •         t       t-»     • 

i..„-iii,         L  I-.-  "  Anglorum  rex  Henncus,  Leo  Decimo, 

It  passed  through  numerous  editious,  ^       •, ,  •■ 

of  which  an   account  is  given  by  Sir  tt  icj   •  2.     1.         j.       •  -i-     » 

T.  vir       01  •  r     /.  ■  Houopusetfideitestemetaniiotiaa. ' 

Henry    Jiilhs,    3rd     series     or     Oi'ig.  ' 

Letters,  i.  p.  256.  Possibly  these  verses  were  not  the 


604  THE  REIGN  OF  HENRY  VIIL  [A.D. 

On  his  telling  the  Pope  that  he  had  received  a  number  of 
other  copies  "no  worse  manner  covered  and  clasped"  than 
that  which  his  Holiness  held  in  his  hand,  Leo  desired  to  have 
five  or  six  more,  "to  the  intent  he  might  deliver  them  to 
sundry  cardinals  learned."  What  opinions  might  have  been 
expressed  by  other  members  of  the  Sacred  College  we  have  no 
means  of  ascertaining ;  but  Campeggio  in  his  letter  to  Wolsey 
is  unable  to  restrain  the  transports  into  which  he  was  thrown 
by  a  perusal  of  the  King's  "  aureus  libellus."  Nothing,  he 
assured  Wolsey,  could  be  better  expressed  or  better  argued  ; — 
the  King  was  inspired  more  by  an  angelic  than  a  human 
spirit.^  Thus  fortified.  Clerk  prepared  for  his  great  coup  in 
the  consistory  held  on  the  2nd  of  October  for  this  special 
purpose. 

Either  from  apprehension  of  carrying  the  farce  too  far — 
for  no  Pope  ever  possessed  more  worldly  sagacity — or  dreading 
some   disturbance  if  too   much  notoriety  was   given   to  this 
affair,  Leo  declined  Clerk's  urgent  request  for  a  public  con- 
sistory.    If,    said  he,    a   public  consistory   were   summoned, 
besides  the  clergy,  a  great  crowd  of  laymen  would  be  present ; 
and  whereas  Lutheranism  had  been  silenced  for  a  time,  and 
the  minds  of  men  are  quieted,  "  this  act  should  put  them  in 
fresh  remembrance,  and  renew  the  old  sore."  ^     It  was  urged 
by  Clerk,  that  if  any  such  there  were,  they  would  be  brought 
to  reason  "by  the  gravity  of  this  act,"  and  the  conclusive 
arguments   contained  in  the   King's   book.      But  the   Pope 
remained   inflexible.     He   was,    in  fact,   bent    upon   getting 
through  this  business  with  as  little  notoriety  as  he  conveniently 
could,   without   giving  offence  to   any.      Therefore,    on   the 
Wednesday  when  Clerk,  according  to  appointment,  attended 
at  the  palace,  after  hearing  mass  "his  Holiness  went  into  the 

King's  own  composition ;  for  Burnet  parfitted)  is  far  more  excellent  and 
has  published  a  letter  from  Wolsey  to  princely,  and  shall  long  continue  for 
the  King,  professing  to  be  taken  from  your  perpetual  memory,  whereof  your 
the  State  Paper  Office — the  original  Grace  shall  be  more  plenarily  informed 
of  which  has  since  disappeared — in  by  the  said  Mr.  Tate.  I  do  send  aho 
which  the  Cardinal  says,  that  he  has  unto  your  Highness  the  choice  of  certain 
sent  jMr.  Tate  (Tuke  ?)  to  the  King  verses  to  he  written  in  the  hook  to  he 
"  with  the  book  bounden  and  di-essed,  sent  to  the  Pope  in  your  own  hand,  with 
which  ye  purpose  to  send  to  the  Pope's  the  subscription  of  your  name,  to 
Holiness,  with  a  memorial  of  such  remain  in  archivis  Ecclesice  ad  per- 
other  as  be  also  to  be  sent  by  him  petitarn  et  immortalem  vestrce  majestatis 
with  his  authentic  bulls  to  all  other  gloriam,  laudevi  et  memoriam."  Bur- 
princes  and  universities.  And  albeit,  net,  iii.  Records,  No.  3. 
Sir,    this    book    is    right    honorable,  *  III.  1592. 

pleasant  and  fair,  yet  I  assure  your  *  Luther   had    not    yet    emerged 

Grace  that  which  Hall  hath  written  from  his  Patmos. 
(which    within     four    days    will     be 


1522.]  DEFENDER   OF   THE   FAITH.  605 

place  where  consistories  were  accustomed  to  be  kept ;  and 
within  a  little  while  called  in  such  prelates  as  were  tarrying 
without  to  the  number  of  twenty.  And  immediately  after," 
continues  Clerk,  "the  master  of  the  ceremonies  came  unto 
me,  and  informed  me  somewhat  of  the  ceremonies ;  and 
amongst  other  that  I  should  kneel  upon  my  knees  all  the  time 
of  mine  oration.  Whereat  I  was  somewhat  abashed,  for 
methought  I  should  not  have  my  heart  nor  my  spirits  so  much 
at  my  liberty.  I  feared  greatly  lest  they  should  not  serve  me 
so  well  kneeling  as  they  would  standing.  Howbeit,  there  was 
no  remedy ;  and  needs  I  must  do  as  the  master  of  the  cere- 
monies did  tell  me.  And  so  following  him,  I  entered  the 
place  of  th.  .  .  ,  where  the  Pope's  Holiness  sate  in  his  majesty 
upon  a  [dais],  three  steps  from  the  ground,  underneath  a  cloth 
of  [estate].  Afore  him,  in  a  large  quadrant,  upon  stools,  sate 
the  bishops  in  their  consistorial  habits,  to  the  number  of 
twenty."  He  was  then  presented  by  the  master  of  the  cere- 
monies, and  after  three  obeisances  the  Pope  allowed  Clerk  to 
kiss  his  foot ;  but  as  he  attempted  to  rise,  "  his  Holiness,"  he 
says,  "  took  me  by  the  shoulders  and  caused  me  to  kiss  first 
the  one  cheek  and  then  the  other."  Then,  returning  to  the 
stool  which  had  been  placed  for  him.  Clerk  pronounced  his 
oration  on  his  knees.-^  The  Pope  made  a  complimentary 
reply.  He  thanked  God  for  raising  uj)  such  a  Defender  of  the 
Faith,  and  inspiring  him  with  the  power  and  the  wish  to 
grapple  with  such  an  abominable  monster  as  Luther.  On 
calling  two  or  three  days  afterwards,  His  Holiness  con- 
descended "  to  use  very  good  words  "  touching  Clerk's  oration, 
and  took  occasion  at  the  same  to  assure  him  that  the  Holy 
See  would  do  as  much  for  the  confirmation  of  the  King's  book, 
"  as  ever  was  done  for  the  works  of  St.  Augustine  or  St. 
Jerome." 

The  day  after  Clerk's  appearance  in  the  consistory,  the 
title  of  Fidei  Defensor  was  conferred  by  the  Pope  on 
Henry  YHL^ 

The  news  reached  England  at  the  end  of  October.  On  the 
4th  of  November,  Pace,  then  at  court,  wrote  to  Wolsey,  stating 
that  the  King  had  received  his  extracts  from  Clerk's  letters, 
and  was  rejoiced  to  hear  "  of  the  Pope's  singular  contentation 
of  his  book  against  Luther,  and  how  honorably  and  lovingly 
it  was  accepted  by  his  Holiness."      He  repeated  the  same 

•  The  substance  of  his  oration  will  be  found  in  III.  1656. 
«  III.  1659. 


606  THE   EEIGN  OF  HENEY   VIII.  [A.D. 

information  on  the  17tli  of  the  same  month,  adding,  that 
"  whereas  the  King  perceived  the  great  honor,  land,  and  com- 
mendation he  had  attained  by  the  writing  of  his  book  against 
the  detestable  heresies  of  Martin  Luther,  and  that  it  had 
pleased  the  Pope's  holiness,  in  memory  of  that  Catholic  work, 
to  give  unto  him  the  high  and  most  excellent  title  of  Defensor 
of  the  Faith,  to  the  perpetual  renown  and  glory  of  him  and  all 
his  successors,  his  Highness  saith  that  though  God  hath  sent 
unto  him  a  little  learning,  whereby  he  hath  attempted  to  write 
against  the  erroneous  opinions  and  heresies  of  the  said  Luther, 
yet  he  never  intended  so  to  do  afore  he  was  by  your  Grace 
moved  and  led  thereunto.  Wherefore  his  Highness  saith  that 
your  Grace  must  of  good  congruitybe  partner  of  all  the  honor 
and  glory  he  hath  obtained  by  that  act."  ^ 

Owing  to  the  rank  of  its  author,  and  the  imposing  ceremony 
with  which  it  was  ushered  into  the  world,  the  King's  book 
passed  rapidly  through  various  editions.  It  was  translated 
into  German  and  published  at  Leipsic  in  1523  ;  into  English 
a  few  years  later.  "  It  was  multiplied  into  many  thousands," 
says  Cochlffius,  "  by  various  printers ;  and  filled  the  whole 
Christian  world  with  joy  and  admiration."  ^ 

Luther  had  scarcely  returned  from  his  Patmos  in  the 
castle  of  the  Wartberg,  when  his  attention  was  called  to  the 
King's  book.  He  suspected  its  real  author  was  Edward  Lee, 
the  enemy  of  Erasmus,  afterwards  Archbishop  of  York,  who 
had  drawn  down  upon  himself  the  animosity  of  the  Germans, 
both  Protestant  and  Catholic. 

To  the  man  who  has  grappled  with  Apollyon  in  the  Valley 
of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  any  Goliath  of  Vanity  Fair,  however 
gigantic,  must  appear  no  better  than  an  empty  wind-bag.  In 
the  flush  of  his  might  he  is  sometimes  liable  to  forget  the 
weakness  and  ignorance  of  his  fellow-men.  So  was  it  with 
Luther.  The  spirit  of  victory  was  strong  upon  him.  In  his 
reply,  dated  from  Wittemburg,  July  15,  1522,  he  shows  the 
King  no  mercy.  "  The  King's  book,"  he  says,  "  has  been  put 
forth  to  his  everlasting  disgrace."  "  He  was  a  fool  for  allow- 
ing his  name  to  be  abused  by  a  parcel  of  empty-headed 
sophists,  and  for  stuffing  his  book  with  lies  and  virulence, 
reminding  the  world  of  nothing  more  than  of  Lee  or  his 
shadow,  and  of  such  fat  swine  as  are  mewed  in  the  sty  of  St. 
Thomas.  The  Pharaoh  of  England,  like  the  tyrant  of  old,  is 
not  without  his  false  prophets,  Jannes  and  Jambres."     Then, 

>  III.  1772.  2  Acta  Martini  Lutheri,  p.  48. 


1522.]  LUTHER'S   ANSWER   TO   THE   KING.  607 

hj  way  of  apology  for  tliis  indecorous  severity,  be  continues  : 
"  If  the  King  bad  been  guilty  of  error  such  as  is  common  to 
men,  be  miglit  bave  been  treated  witb  indulgence.  Now  that 
— damnable  rottenness  and  worm  as  be  is — be  knowingly  and 
wilfully  sets  bimself  to  compose  lies  against  tbe  Majesty  of 
my  King  in  Heaven,  it  is  only  rigbt  tbat  I,  in  tbe  cause  of  mj^ 
King,  sbould  bespatter  bis  Englisb  majesty  wdtb  bis  own  mud 
and  bis  own  filtb,  and  tread  under  my  feet  tbat  crowned  bead 
{cownam)  wliicb  tbus  blaspbemes  against  Cbrist. 

"  And  since  it  is  notorious  tbat  tbese  Tbomists  are  a  dull 
and  beavy-beaded  race  of  sopbists,  tban  wbom  in  tbe  wbole 
range  of  buman  nature  tbere  is  notbing  more  stupid  and 
blockisb,  and  as  our  good  Henry  wisbes,  in  tbis  book  of  bis, 
to  be  reckoned  a  first-rate  Tbomist,  wbilst  be  dreams  and 
snores,  among  otber  matters,  de  charactere  et  vi  sacramentali 
in  aquis — absurdities  wbicb  even  bis  brotber  sopbists  in  tbeir 
universities  bave  abandoned  as  untenable — I  bave  tbougbt  it 
rigbt  to  snub  and  to  piucb  bim  witb  sbarp  words,  and  rouse 
bim,  if  possible,  out  of  bis  letbargy.  .  .  .  His  book  is  a 
favourite  witb  om'  sopbistical  neighbours,  for  no  otber  reason 
tban  tbat  it  is  so  intensely  Tbomistic ; — and  asses  love 
nettles."  ^ 

My  reader  may  easily  guess,  from  tbis  specimen  of  tbe 
prelude,  tbe  st3de  and  temper  of  Lutber's  reply.  Tbe  King's 
book  contained  notbing,  it  must  be  confessed,  tbat  could 
enlighten  the  consciences  of  men,  or  shake  tbe  convictions  of 
those  who  had  already  adopted  tbe  Lutheran  doctrines.  It 
reproduced,  without  novelty  or  energy,  the  old  common-places 
of  authorit}^  tradition,  and  general  consent.  The  cardinal 
principles  of  Luther's  teaching  tbe  King  did  not  understand, 
and  did  not  therefore  attempt  to  confute.  Contented  to  point 
out  the  mere  straws  on  tbe  surface  of  the  current — the 
apparent  inconsistencies  of  Luther,  his  immoderate  language, 
bis  disparagement  of  authority,  the  royal  controversialist 
never  travels  beyond  the   familiar  round ;    and  reproduces, 

'  That  is,  Lulher  ridicules  the  idea  sacraments.     It  will  be  gathered  from 

of  there  bein?  any  Bacramental  eflScacy  these  remarks  tliat  the  Reformer  did 

in    the    water    of    baptism,    or    the  not,  like  the  Schoolmen,  consider  the 

material  elements  of  the  mass.     That  priest  as   of    the   essence   of    either 

eflBcacy  exists  only  in  the  promise  of  sacrament.     It  is  not  easy  to  escape 

God,  which,  by  His    own   ordinance,  the  conclusion  that,  according  to  this 

accompanies  these  outward  and  visible  doctrine,  any  and  all  water  is  bajitism, 

signs,  wherever  they  are  received  in  any  bread  and  wine  spiritual  as  well 

faith.     This  is  that  consubstantiation  as  material  aliment,  to  the  faithful, 
which    Luther    recognized    in    both 


608  THE   EEIGN   OF   HENRY   VHI.  [A.D. 

without  force,  originality,  or  feeling,  the  weaiy  topics  he  had 
picked  up,  without  much  thought  or  research,  from  the  theo- 
logical manuals  of  the  day.  Even  his  invective  is  as  mean 
and  as  feeble  as  his  logic.  Even  when  discussing  the  Papal 
supremacy  he  puts  on  the  blinkers  with  his  harness,  and  is 
as  docile  and  as  orthodox  as  if  he  had  never  opposed  the 
publication  of  a  papal  bull,  or  refused  admission  to  a  papal 
nuncio. 

Such  being  the  case,  we  may  wonder  at  Luther's  needless 
violence  and  acrimonj^ ;  of  which  he  himself  seems  to  have 
been  ashamed,  and  attempted  afterwards  to  excuse  it  in  a  letter 
to  the  King,  on  the  ground  that  he  was  instigated  to  write  in 
this  bitter  fashion  by  certain  persons  who  were  not  favourable 
to  his  Majesty.  Who  they  were  he  nowhere  states,  nor  have 
1  been  able  to  discover.  He  adds,  that  he  hears  the  King  is 
beginning  to  favour  the  professors  of  the  Gospel,  and  has 
grown  weary  of  his  former  councillors. 

But  in  his  apology,  whilst  magnifying  the  King's  clemency 
he  fell  into  the  mistake,  on  some  false  information,  of  affecting 
to  disbelieve  the  authorship  of  the  King's  book.  He  attributes 
it  to  some  cunning  sophists,  who  had  abused  the  King's  con- 
fidence, without  being  aware  of  the  danger  they  were  incurring 
from  the  King's  indignation  when  the  facts  should  be  dis- 
covered— "  especially  that  monster  the  Cardinal  of  York 
(Wolsey),  the  public  detestation  of  God  and  man,  the  plague 
of  your  Majesty's  kingdom  !  " 

This  letter,  written  in  September,  1525,  is  curious,  as 
Luther  had  received  some  intimation,  probably  from  Chris- 
tiern  IL,  that  Wolsey  had  fallen  under  the  King's  displeasure  ; 
but  his  invective  against  the  Cardinal  was  premature.  It  is 
not  surprising  that  Henry  rejected  his  advances  with  scornful 
coldness,  and  bluntly  contradicted  every  one  of  his  insinuations. 

The  violence  and  bitterness  of  Luther  called  forth  replies 
conceived  in  the  same  offensive  tone  and  temper  ;  among 
others,  from  Sir  Thomas  More,  under  the  pseudonym  of 
William  Eosse,^  no  less  foul  and  scurrilous.     I  should  be  glad 

'   Gruilielnius      Rosseus.       I      fear  The  book  was  published  in  London, 

More's  authorship  of  this  work  cannot  4*°,   1523,  and  is  always  included  in 

be  denied.     The  letter  prefixed  to  it  More's  collected  Latin  works.     In  the 

is  so  full  of  More's  lively  wit  and  spark-  letter  of  his  supposed  correspondent 

ling  dramatic  humour,    the  Latin  is  from  London  it  is  stated,  that  when 

so  far  above  the  heavy  controversial  Luther's  answer  was  first  brought  to 

style    of    the  times — of   Fisher's,  for  the    King    he    merely    smiled   at  the 

instance — that  no  one  but  More  can  abuse    contained   in    it  ;     and    being 

lay  reasonable  claim  to  its  paternity.  asked  his  opinion  remarked,  that  the 


1522.] 


MORE'S   ANSWER   TO   LUTHER. 


609 


to  believe  that  More  was  not  the  author  of  this  work.  That 
a  nature  so  pure  and  gentle,  so  adverse  to  coarse  abuse,  and 
hitherto  not  unfavourable  to  the  cause  of  religious  reform, 
should  soil  its  better  self  with  vulgar  and  offensive  raillery, 
destitute  of  all  wit  and  humour,  shocks  and  pains,  like  tliQ  mis- 
conduct of  a  dear  friend.  For  round  no  man  in  this  great  reign 
do  our  sj^mpathies  gather  so  strongly  as  round  More  ;  in  no 
man  is  humanity  with  its  various  modes,  its  sun  and  shadow, 
its  gentleness  and  kindliness,  its  sorrows  and  misgivings,  so 
attractively  presented  as  in  More.  But  this  was  precisely  the 
danger,  the  fatal  danger,  to  which  men  of  More's  temperament 
were  exposed  by  Luther's  heedless  and  unnecessary  violence. 
They  turned  away  in  disgust  from  doctrines  defended  in  such 
a  style,  in  a  temper  so  impatient  and  so  arrogant.  The  cause 
of  truth  was  imperilled  when  taunts  and  ridicule,  and  all  the 
ignobler  shapes  of  controversy,  took  possession  of  the  field. 
To  Luther  it  mattered  not.  In  this  outspoken  unreserve,  this 
lava-like  passion,  pouring  out  the  whole  torrent  of  his  feelings 
without  stint  or  measure,  his  bluff  German  temperament  found 
health  and  relief  as  in  a  violent  kind  of  exercise.  To  others 
>the  injury  was  irreparable. 


antlior  of  such  petulant  and  virulent 
invective  was  only  fit  to  act  the  fool 
at  a  Lord  Mayor's  banquet.  The  King 
further  remarked,  that  he  should  not 
think  of  answering  Luther's  invective, 
or  advise  any  one  else  to  answer  it. 


but  his  querists  were  at  liberty  to  do 
as  they  pleased.  We  must,  I  thinli, 
accept  this  anecdote  on  no  less  an 
authority  than  More's,  who  was 
generally  at  this  time  about  the  King. 


VOL.    1. 


2  11 


APPENDIX. 

1. — Cures  for  the  Sweating  Sickness.     (See  p.  240.) 

A  Book  of  Eeceipts,  witb  the  signatures  of  T.  Darcy  and  A. 
Darcy. 

For  the  new  sweating  sickness  which  was  the  20th  year  of  the 
reign  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth. — "  Take  endive,  sowthistle,  mary- 
gold,  mercury,  and  nightshade,  three  handfuls  of  all,  and  seethe 
them  in  conduit  water,  from  a  quart  to  pint,  then  strain  it  into  a 
fair  vessel,  then  delay  it  with  a  little  sugar  to  put  away  the  tart- 
ness, and  then  drink  it  when  the  sweat  taketh  j^ou,  and  keep  you 
warm ;  and  by  the  grace  of  God  ye  shall  be  whole." 

"  For  the  same. — Take  three  large  spoonfuls  of  water  of 
dragons,  and  a  quarter  of  a  spoonful  of  fine  treacle  of  Gean,  and> 
half  a  nutshellfiill  of  unicorn's  horn  scraped  small,  and  a  quarter 
of  a  spoonful  of  fine  good  powder  of  maces,  and  make  all  that  same 
hot,  and  so  let  the  patient  drink  it,  and  keep  him  well,  neither 
over  hot  nor  over  cold,  but  whole  in  his  arms  and  feet,  and  let  him 
keep  him  by  taking  clothes  off  him  by  little  and  little,  till  he  be 
dried  up,  and  let  him  use  wholesome  meats,  and  by  the  grace  of 
God  he  shall  not  perish.  Probatum  est  of  my  Lord  Darcy  and  30 
persons  in  his  house  all  in  peril." — Add.  MS.  1592,  f.  100. 

A  special  medicine  for  the  pestilence. — "  Take  half  an  handful 
of  rew,  called  herbe  grace,  a  handful  marygold,  half  an  handful 
fetherfew,  a  handful  sorrel,  a  handful  burnet,  and  half  a  handful 
dragons,  the  top  in  summer,  the  root  in  winter;  wash  them  in 
running  water,  anil  put  them  in  an  earthen  pot,  with  a  pottle  of 
D'unning  water,  and  let  them  seethe  soberly  to  nigh  the  half  be 
consumed,  and  then  draw  aback  the  pot,  to  it  be  almost  cold,  and 
then  strain  it  into  a  fair  glass  and  keep  it  close,  and  use  thereof 
morn  and  even,  and  when  need  is  oftener;  and  if  it  be  bitter, 
delay  it  with  sugar  candy ;  and  if  it  be  taken  afore  the  pimples 
break  forth,  there  is  no  doubt  but  with  the  grace  of  Jesus  it  shall 
amend  any  man,  woman,  or  child.  Probatum  est,  a°  13  H.  VIII." 
—Ibid.,  f.  49. 

"  A  medicine  for  the  pestilence,  sent  to  my  Lord  Darcy  from 
the  Menery,  from  my  Lad}'  Whethyll. — My  Lord,  in  my  best 
manner  I  recommend  me  unto  your  Lordship,  and  very  sorry  I  am 


APPENDIX.  611 

of  your  great  heaviness.  My  Lord,  the  cause  of  my  writing  to  you 
at  this  time  is  to  advertise  your  Lordship  of  a  pi'oved  medicine ; 
that  is,  to  take  treacle  and  vinegar,  and  temper  them  together,  and 
put  thereto  some  running  water  to  allay  the  vinegar  with,  and 
take  three  or  four  good  spoonfuls  fasting,  you  and  all  yours,  four 
or  five  mornings,  and  fast  an  hour  after  it,  and  by  the  giace  of 
God  ye  shall  find  it  shall  do  great  good ;  and  then  my  good  Lord, 
I  beseech  our  Lord  to  preserve  you  and  all  yours,  and  send  you  as 
good  health  as  I  woll  myself.  This  medicine  have  I  proved 
myself. 

'•  Item,  the  said  Lord  used  at  all  times  of  necessity  for  to  take 
powder  of  imperial  treacle  of  Gean,  vinegar,  spring  water,  and 
powder  of  unicorn's  horns,  timely  fasting,  and  neither  to  drink  nor 
eat  to  noon ;  this  is  proved  for  a  good  preparatif." — f.  103. 

"  By  Dr.  Cromer,  proved  Avith  Katharine  Constable. — R  oleum 
Eos'an  popelionis,  and  ^1  mellis  dispnmati,  5^  aquas  plantag.  et 
ros'rum  parte  unam  must' ;  fiat  unguentum  et  cum  pluma  colum- 
bina  tingatur  locus  delence." — f.  104. 

"  The  king's  medicine  for  the  pestilence. — Take  a  handful  of 
sawge  of  vertue,  a  handful  of  herbe  grace,  a  handful  of  elder 
leaves,  and  a  handful  of  red  briar  leaves,  and  stamp  them 
together,  and  strain  them  in  a  fair  cloth  with  a  quart  of  white 
wine,  and  then  take  a  quantity  of  ginger,  and  mingle  them 
all  together,  and  drink  of  that  medicine  a  spoonful  every  day, 
nine  days  together,  an<i  after  nine  days  ye  shall  be  whole,  for 
the  whole  year,  by  the  grace  of  God.  And  if  it  fortune  that 
one  be  sore  taken  with  the  plague  before  he  hath  drunk  of  the 
same  medicine,  let  him  take  the  water  of  scabies,  and  a  spoonful 
of  betony  water,  and  a  quart  of  fine  treacle,  and  put  them  all 
together,  and  cause  the  person  to  drink  it,  and  it  shall  put  out  all 
the  venom ;  and  if  it  fortune  that  the  botch  do  appear,  then  take 
of  leaves  of  briars,  elders,  and  mustard  seed,  and  stamp  them  all 
together,  and  make  a  plaster  thereof,  and  lay  it  to  the  sore,  and  it 
shall  draw  out  all  the  venom,  and  the  person  shall  be  whole." — 
f.  130. 

"  A  proved  medicine  against  the  pestilence,  called  the  philo- 
sopher's egg.- — ^Take  first  an  egg  and  break  an  hole  in  one  end 
thereof,  and  do  out  the  white  from  the  yolk  as  clean  as  you 
can ;  then  take  whole  saifron  and  fill  the  shell  therewith  by  the 
yolk,  then  close  it  at  both  ends  with  two  half  egg  shells ;  then 
rake  it  in  the  embers  till  it  be  so  hard  that  you  may  stamp  it  to 
fine  powder  in  a  mortar,  shell  and  all ;  then  take  as  much  white 
mustard  seed  as  the  weight  of  the  egg  and  the  saffron  is  and  grind 
it  as  small  as  meal ;  then  take  the  4th  part  of  an  oz.  of  a  dittony 
root,  and  as  much  of  turmontell  and  of  crownutcs  one  dram ; 
stamp  this  tkree  sundry  times  very  fine  in  a  mortar,  and  then  mix 


012  APPENDIX. 

them  three  well  together ;  after  that  take  as  a  thing  most  needful 
the  root  of  angelica  and  pimpernel,  of  each  one  drachm,  and  make 
them  to  powder  and  mix  with  the  rest ;  then  compound  herewith 
4  or  5  grains  a  quantity  of  unicorn's  horn  if  it  be  possible  to  be 
gotten,  and  take  so  much  weight  as  all  these  powders  come  to  of 
fine  treacle,  and  stamp  the  same  with  the  powders  in  a  mortar,  till 
they  be  all  mixed  and  hang  to  the  pestle,  and  then  it  is  perfectly 
made ;  put  this  electuary  in  glass  boxes,  and  you  may  keep  it  20 
or  30  years ;  the  longer  the  better." — f.  159b. 

"  How  this  electuary  is  to  be  used,  and  of  the  ordering  of  the 
patient.  Item,  when  the  patient  is  infected  of  the  pestilence,  let 
him  take  as  soon  as  he  can  this  electuary  or  ever  it  infect  the 
heart ;  a  crown  weight  of  gold,  and  as  much  of  some  treacle,  if  it 
be  for  a  man,  but  if  it  be  for  a  woman,  let  them  take  less,  and  that 
must  be  well  broken  together.  And  if  the  pestilence  come  with 
cold,  then  give  him  the  said  electuary  with  half  a  cruse  of  white 
wine,  tempered  together ;  but  if  it  come  with  heat,  then  give  it  to 
him  with  plantony  water,  or  with  well  water  and  vinegar  mixt 
together ;  and  when  he  hath  drunk  the  same  let  the  patient  go  to 
his  naked  bed,  and  cover  him  warm,  and  let  him  lie  6,  8,  or  10 
hours  as  he  is  able  to  endure  it,  for  to  sweat,  for  the  more  he 
bweateth  the  better,  for  the  sickness  vadeth  with  the  sweat ;  but  if 
you  cannot  sweat,  then  heat  two  or  three  bricks  or  tiles  in  the  fire 
and  warm  (sic)  them  in  a  moist  linen  cloth,  and  lay  them  by  his 
sides  in  the  bed,  and  that  shall  cause  him  to  sweat;  and  remember, 
as  the  patient  sweateth,  to  wipe  away  the  sweat  from  his  body 
downward  with  hot  dry  cloths,  and  his  sweating  being  ended  you 
must  shift  his  shirt  and  all  the  bedding  with  fresh  warm  clothes, 
using  him  very  warm  from  any  cold  taking  in  the  meantime,  and 
let  him  sit  well  wrapped  by  a  warm  fire  while  his  bed  is  preparing 
to  be  made." 

"  How  the  patient  shall  behave  himself  when  he  hath  ended  his 
sweating. — Let  the  keeper  of  the  sick  beware  of  the  breath  of  the 
patient  in  his  sweat ;  also  let  the  clothes  be  well  aired  and  washed  ; 
and  because  ho  shall  be  faint  and  distempered  after  his  sickness,  he 
shall  eat  no  flesh  nor  drink  wine  for  the  space  of  one  week,  but  let 
him  use  this  comfortness  for  the  heart ; — as  conserve  of  bugloss  or 
red  roses,  and  specially  he  shall  drink  three  or  four  days  after  he 
hath  sweat,  morning  and  evening,  three  quints  of  the  juice  of 
sorrel,  with  one  oz.  of  conserve  of  sorrel,  mixed  together,  and  so 
forth,  with  all  besides  that  is  comfortable  for  the  heart.  Also,  if 
one  take  the  quantity  of  a  bean  of  the  said  electuary,  with  some 
good  wine,  it  shall  keep  him  from  the  infection  of  the  pestilence." 

"  The  order  to  make  the  water. — Take  rue,  egremony,  w^orm- 
wood,  salendine,  sage,  balm,  rosemary,  mugwort,  dragons,  pimpernel, 
marigolds,  f ether  few,  burnet,  sorrel,  and  a  little  roots  of  elecampane. 


APPENDIX.  613 

scraped  and  shred  small,  and  mince  all  the  herbs  small,  and  as 
mucli  more  rosemary  as  of  any  of  the  other  herbs,  and  you  must 
have  them  of  the  like  weight ;  then  soak  them  in  the  best  white 
wine  you  can  get,  three  days  and  three  nights,  and  after  wring  out 
the  wine  from  the  herb.s,  and  still  the  herbs  by  themselves,  and 
after  still  the  wine,  and  that  water  is  good  for  agues ;  but  put  it 
not  to  the  water  of  the  herbs,  for  that  water  wdth  a  little  treacle 
or  metridatum  shall  drive  any  sickness  from  the  heart." — Addit. 
MS.  1592.— f.  160. 

As  through  the  default  "  of  good  ruling  and  dieting  in  meat 
and  drink,  men  fallen  often  into  this  sickness,  therefore  when  the 
pestilence  reigneth  in  country,  the  man  that  wol  be  kept  fro  that 
evil,  him  needeth  him  to  keep  fro  outrage  and  excess  in  meat  and 
eke  drink,  ne  use  no  baths,  ne  sweat  not  too  much,  for  all  these 
openeth  the  pores  of  the  body,  and  maketh  the  venomous  airs  to 
enter,  and  destroyeth  the  lively  spirits  in  man,  and  enfeebleth  the 
body;  and  sovereignly  haunting  of  lechery,  for  that  enfeebleth  the 
kind,  and  openeth  the  pores  that  wicked  airs  may  enter.  Also, 
use  little  or  naught  of  these :  garlick,  onions,  leeks,  or  other  such 
meats  that  bring  a  man  into  an  unkindly  heat.  Also,  suffer  not 
greatly  thirst  that  time,  and  if  thou  thirst  greatly  look  thou  drink 
but  measurably  to  slake  thy  thirst ;  and  the  best  drink  were  cold 
water,  menged  with  vinegar  or  tysan."  The  poison  enters  at  the 
pores  in  one  of  the  "  cleansing  places"  of  the  principal  members, 
i.e.  heart,  liver,  and  brain ;  and  unless  the  patient  is  bled  within 
18  hours,  it  fastens  on  one  place,  and  casts  him  into  an  ague,  and 
maketh  a  botch  in  some  of  the  three  cleansing  places,  or  near  them. 
"  Pricking  or  flakering  of  blood  "  is  a  sign  of  the  sickness.  "  If  the 
matter  be  guided  under  the  armhole,  it  cometh  of  the  heart,  and 
then  bleed  on  the  vein  that  is  called  the  cardiac,  and  on  the  same 
side  that  the  evil  is  in."  If  between  the  thighs  and  the  body, 
bleed  on  the  foot,  or  between  the  ancle  and  the  heel ;  or  else  "  be 
thou  ventu.sed  on  the  thighs  with  a  box  beside  the  botch."  If  it 
appear  in  the  head  or  arms,  bleed  on  the  vena  cephalica  in  the 
same  arm ;  or  else  above  the  hand  between  the  thumb  and  next 
finger;  "or  else  be  thou  ventused  between  the  shoulders  with 
boxes  till  the  blood  be  drawn  out."  The  heart  should  be  comforted 
with  cold  electuaries,  to  temper  the  great  heat  thereof.  Water 
should  be  stilled  from  dittany,  seabiose,  pimpernel,  and  tormentil. 
He  should  not  eat  much  flesh,  but  chickens  sodden  with  water,  or 
fresh  fish  roasted  to  eat  with  vinegar.  Pottage  of  almonds  is  good, 
and  for  dritdc  tysan,  or  in  the  heat  small  ale.  If  he  wishes  wine, 
give  him  vinegar  and  water;  white  wine  is  better  than  red.  A 
powder  of  the  above  herbs  with  bole  armeniac  and  terra  sigillata 
should  be  taken  in  the  drink.— Addit.  MS.  2320.— f.  16: 

"  After  a  prescription  for  a  drink  of  herbs. — Another  for  them 


614  APPENDIX. 

that  are  clerks  for  to  say  hit  every  day  with  a  crosse  on  the  forhed. 
Per  sigiuim  tau  "|"_  A  peste  et  fame  libera  nos  Jesu.  Hie  est 
titulus  triumphans,  Jesus  Nnzarenus  Bex  Judseorum.  Christus  venit 
in  pace,  et  Deus  homo  factus  est  Jesus.  In  nomine  Patris  et  Filii 
et  Spiritns  Sancti.     Amen." 

"  Salve  crux  Christi.  |+'|  Salve  nos  quod  de  pr^senti  angustia 
pestilential  salvatrix  nostra  es.  Salve  crux  Christi,  salva  nos.  5 
paternosters,  6  aves,  1  credo." 

"  Another  very  true  medicine. — For  to  say  every  day  at  seven 
parts  of  your  body,  7  paternosters,  and  7  Ave  Marias,  with  1  credo 
at  the  last.  Ye  shal  begyn  at  the  ryght  syde,  under  the  ryght 
ere,  saying  the  'paternoster  qui  es  in  coelis,  sanctificetur  nomen 
tuum,'  with  a  cross  made  there  with  your  thumb,  and  so  say  the 
paternoster  full  complete,  and  1  Ave  Maria,  and  then  under  the 
left  ear,  and  then  under  the  left  armhole,  and  then  under  the  left 
the  (thigh  ?)  hole,  and  then  the  last  at  the  heart,  with  1  paternoster, 
Ave  Maria,  with  1  credo ;  and  these  thus  said  daily,  with  the  grace 
of  God  is  there  no  manner  drede  hym.  Quod  pro  certo  probatum 
est  cotidie."— Addit.  MS.  6716,  f.  98. 

"  A  special  medycyn  for  the  pestilence. — In  primis,  1  hanfull 
off  marigollen,  1  hanfull  off  fetherfew,  and  halffe  a  hanfull  oif  rewe, 
and  1  hanfull  of  buruo,  a  quantyte  oif  dragons  off  the  lewys  or  the 
mores,  and  1  hanfull  off  sorrell ;  and  thake  alle  these  erbys  toghether, 
and  whasche  them  in  rynnyng  whater,  and  than  take  a  potell  ofi" 
runnyng  whater,  and  sethe  the  all  your  erbys  in  the  pottell  of 
water,  tylle  hyt  be  sodyn  to  a  quarte,  and  soo  take  hit  the  syke 
blode  warme."— Addit.  MS.  113. 

"  Qui  potet  jus  radicum  bis  tortfe  pimpernellee,  madefelonis, 
solsequii,  absinthii,  rutse  seu  tanasiee,  in  peste,  et  non  vomit, 
evadet." 

"  Commixtio  aquarum  istarum  herbarum,  viz.,  diptamni  pim- 
pernellae,  gentillte,  tormentillte,  et  scabiosa3,  et  hasc  potio  in 
pestilencia  est  nobilissima,  vel  de  qualibet  herba  per  se."^Ib.  783. 


II. — Note  as  to  Pensions.     (See  p.  337,  footnote.) 

Dorset  to  Wolsey,  1  Sept.  [1525]. 

"  Please  it  your  Grace,  that  where  at  my  last  being  with  you 
at  More,  I  moved  your  Grace,  among  other  my  suits,  to  be  one  of 
the  pensioners  of  France,  as  I  was  before;  for  if  I  should  be 
omitted,  and  another  put  in  my  stead,  it  should  not  a  little  grieve 
me,  considering  that  as  well  such  as  be  my  kinsmen  in  France,  as 
my  friends,  here  in  England,  then  knew  me  as  one  of  the  same 
pensioners,  and  what  they  shall  think  in  the  same  I  do  wholly 
remit  it  unto  your  Grace.     I  have  been  at  all  times  ready,  and  in 


APPENDIX.  615 

all  parties  (parts),  to  serve  the  King's  highness  to  the  best  of  my 
little  power,  and  many  times  to  my  great  cost  and  charge ;  with 
the  which  I  ever  held  myself  as  well  content  as  any  poor  subject 
within  this  realm,"  etc. 


III.  Luther.     (See  p.  602.) 
Extracts  from  Masters'  MS.,  Jesus  College,  Oxford. 

"  After  the  election  of  Charles  Emperor,  Tunstal  was  sent  to  be 
at  the  Diet  of  Wormbes. 

"Jan.  21,  1521. — He  writes  to  cardinal  Wolsey  that  the 
Germans  everywhere  are  so  addicted  to  Luther,  that,  rather  than 
he  shall  be  oppressed  by  the  Pope's  authority  (who  hath  already 
condemned  his  opinions),  the  people  will  spend  a  hundred  thou- 
sand of  their  lives.  They  have  informed  the  Emperor  that  he  is  a 
good  and  virtuous  man,  besides  his  learning. 

"  He  offereth  to  make  his  defence,  and  revoke  those  opinions 
which  he  cannot  defend  by  Holy  Scripture. 

"  After  he  perceived  that  he  should  not  be  permitted  to  come 
to  the  Diet  hither,  as  once  it  was  accorded,  and  safeconduct  granted 
unto  him,  (which,  at  the  instance  of  the  Pope's  orator,  was 
revoked,)  despairing  to  be  heard  in  his  defence,  did  openly  in  the 
town  of  Wittemberg  gather  the  people  and  the  University  together, 
and  burn  the  decretals,  &c.,  as  books  erroneous,  as  he  there 
declared ;  which  his  declaration  he  put  in  print  in  the  Dutch 
tongue,  and  sent  it  all  about  the  country ;  which  declaration  by 
some  idle  fellow  hath  been  translate  into  Latin,  which  I  send  your 
Grace  herein  enclosed,  to  the  intent  ye  may  see  it,  and  burn  it 
when  ye  have  done,  and  also  that  your  Grace  may  call  before  you 
the  printers  and  booksellers,  and  give  them  a  strait  charge  that 
they  bring  none  of  his  books  into  England,  nor  translate  them 
into  English,  &c. 

"  The  matter  is  run  so  far  the  princes  cannot  appease  it.  The 
original  was  the  great  sum  of  money  that  goeth  yearly  to  Eome 
for  annates,  which  the  country  would  be  rid  of,  and  the  benefices 
be  given  by  the  Pope  to  such  persons  as  do  serve  at  Eome  unlearned, 
as  cooks  and  horsekeepers,  &c. ;  so  that  the  easiest  I  can  think  will 
be  that  the  Pope  shall  lose  the  said  annates  and  benefices. 

"  He  hath  written  a  book  since  his  condemnation,  De  Capt. 
Bahylonica  Ecclesise,  wherein  he  holdeth  that  four  of  the  sacraments 
be  only  de  jure  positivo  by  the  Pope's  ordinance,  so  called,  viz. 
Covjirmatio,  Ordo,  Extrema  Unctio,  and  Matrimonium ;  and  that 
Baptismus,  Eucharistia,  and  Psenitentia  be  de  jure  divino  et  cvangelii. 
They  say  there  is  much  more  strange  opinion  in  it,  near  to  the 
opinions  of  Boheme.     I  pray  God  keep  that  book  out  of  England. 


616  APPENDIX. 

"  At  the  exeqiay  of  the  cardinal  of  Croy,  in  the  presence  of 
the  Electors,  the  Emperor,  the  Pope's  ambassador,  and  the  Cardinals, 
a  friar  preacher  made  a  sermon,  and  in  the  beginning  said  the 
Pope  was  Vicarius  Chrisii  in  spirituaUbus,  and  the  cardinals  and 
bishops  were  Apostoli,  &g.  But  how  his  tongue  turned  in  his  head 
I  cannot  tell ;  but  after  he  concluded  that  the  Emperor,  when  they 
do  amiss,  should  reform  their  abuses,  ctiam  usque  ad  depositionem  ; 
whereupon  the  Pope's  Nuncius,  having  commission  against  Luther, 
called  him,  laying  the  premises  to  his  charge  ;  which  said  Nuncius 
hath  been  openly  threatened  by  many  gentlemen  not  to  inter- 
meddle with  him.  In  his  said  sermon  he  exhorted  the  Emjieror 
and  all  the  princes  to  go  into  Italy,  which  is  of  the  Empire,  and  to 
reform  such  abuses  as  be  there;  whereunto  I  understand  many 
of  the  princes  be  inclined,  because  every  man  thinketh  to  gain 
thereby.  I'he  said  friar  preacher  is  since  ordained  to  preach  here 
all  the  Lent,  b}'  whom  I  know  not, 

"  Luther  offereth,  if  the  Emperor  will  go  to  Pome  to  reform 
the  Church,  to  bring  him  100,000  men,  whereunto  the  Emperor,  as 
a  virtuous  prince,  will  not  hearken.  The  said  Luther  hath  many 
great  clerks  that  hold  with  him,  save  in  some  points,  which  the 
said  Luther  hath  put  forth  more  than  he  can  or  will  justify,  to  the 
intent  that  on  the  residue  he  might  be  heard,  and  a  council  called 
for  reformation,  whereof  the  Pope  will  not  hear,  but  standeth  to 
his  sentence  of  condemnation." 


END    OF   VOL.    I. 


LONDOK:   printed   by    WILLIAM   CLOWES   AND   SONS,   LIMITED, 
STAMFOKD   6TKEET  AKD   CHAKING  «P.O^.   fj        C\ 


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